I will be gone in a week. There is only one thing that would make me stay, and although my hope, and faith is strong, I don’t know if I believe in miracles of the heart anymore. I will go with a heavy soul without resolution, as this causes my grief more than nothing else. I cannot move freely without having peace. To realize that I have been the true source of my pain, just makes it all the more bitter to swallow. I realize that these are letters to confess, however; what is in my heart is reserved for the one who wants it if he so desires. All I have left in the world, is my strength, my will, and my heart. Still, if I find no harmony; I will take my heavy heart, hold my head high, and gracefully bow out.

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1. Dear BOB,
2. Dear family,