Dearest Anna, (I'll capitalize it because you mean the world to me dearest and are superior in my mind)
I am so sorry. So sorry for everything that's happeneing to you. I wish I could make it stop but I know I can't. I almost wish we could just say "screw the world!" and run off to leave all this crap behind us. If it meant it would take your pain away, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Or even just visit more often. Hell, I'm not doing anything productive here so what's the point? I don't even care about any of that anymore. I just care about you and that you're alright; really its true.
I'm sorry beacuse I feel so useless here. Though you say I help, I still feel like I'm only a hinderance by being here, never around when you need me, always around when you're busy or getting you into trouble half the time because we have to hide Us. I'm sorry love, really I am. You deserve better than a half-dead drama student over 40 miles away. When I say half-dead, the term can be a bit ambiguous. No love, I have not tried to die again but I haven't tried to live either. I have conformed to my asylum here. I rarely leave and when I do, its to go to class or when I get dragged around by friends, to which I don't enjoy as much as I may say I do. The numbness you speak of, I can relate to. I don't feel here. The only reason my acting's ont affected is because I channel everything I'm trying to feel and everything I miss into it. Everything. It's all I have when I'm here. I miss you Anna, terribly. Horrendously. Longing is the only feeling I have here...
And for that I'm sorry. I really am.
All my love and all I have,
(And I really mean all of it)