quot;No one understands me!”
t of me, and as unlikely as it may seem, trut. Sometimes Im so deeply buried under self-reproac I long for a to again. If only I ook my feelings seriously. Alas, I yet found t person, so t go on.
I kno Peter, arent you, Kit? Its true, Peter loves me, not as a girlfriend, but as a friend. ion gro some mysterious force is kno is.
Sometimes I terrible longing for ed. But ts not true, because if Im unable to go to er is kind and good, and yet I cant deny t ed me in many care for able conversations and various t nature. Still, Im firmly convinced t ick to our agreement never to quarrel. Peter is peace-loving, tolerant and extremely easygoing. s me say a lot of to from ermined effort to remove ts from antly being accused of knoo kno not in practice) t in time, even t uncommunicative types will long as muco confide in.
Peter and I our contemplative years in ten discuss ture, t and t, but as Ive already told you, I miss t I kno exists!
Is it because I been outdoors for so long t Ive become so smitten ure? I remember a time ivated me. t during tecost ance, ruggled to keep my eyes open until eleven-ty so I could get a good look at too muc risk opening a ime, several monto be upstairs one nig go back doil it o be closed again. t time in a year and a Id seen t face-to-face. After t evening my longing to see it again er t-infested doairs all by myself and looked out tce office. Many people ture is beautiful, many people sleep from time to time under tarry sky, and many people in als and prisons long for to enjoy ure o offer. But feed and cut off as ure, which can be shared by rich and poor alike.
Its not just my imagination -- looking at dle sky, dle clouds, dle moon and dle stars really does make me feel calm and s mucter medicine ture makes me feel o face every bloh courage!
As luck for a feo vieure ty curtains tacked over dirt-caked takes dle pleasure out of looking. Nature is