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We didn't just have "our song," we had whole genres of music. There are some albums on my shelf that I can't really play anymore without growing despondent just thinking of you. There was never any boredom that crept into our many hurts together, but instead there was always laughter and excitement, not to mention passion. Even though we were together at work at the bar and together at home, we never seemed to get tired of each other or even really need a break from each other -- in fact, we took our breaks together, too, and our vacations -- remember our first Christmas at your parents house? Or the next year at mine? Even our families, crazy though they are, didn't cause even a momentary hesitation on our parts that we were meant to be together.
Thinking of our families also reminds me of the way we were able to support each other through some of the hardest periods of both of our lives. Seen in this light, it is impossible for me to understand how the person that helped me through the death of my mother -- an event that made life and love seem almost worthless -- could now so suddenly and so completely never again be a part of my everyday...
I feel like we watched each other bleed and helped to dress each others' wounds, you nursing me back to spiritual and emotional health after my mother's passing and me doing the same for you during the period of your grandfather's illness, but now -- for whatever reason -- the impulse to share each others' pain as a way of helping the other to cope has passed, as if it was only a job we were obligated to perform.
It's strange how all of these elements could make it seem so right for us to remain together, and just a few rough months -- admittedly, with some additional stress, but still, just a few short months -- could make it seem completely un-worthwhile. Sometimes people just grow apart, I suppose; I know we were always faithful to each other, and even towards the end we managed a few surprise romantic nights just like we had experienced earlier in our relationship. Those were nice, and I enjoyed some of our final memories together, but memories aren't enough to build a future on.
I hope your future treats you well, and I hope that it collides with my future in some way, at least. Once we're both ready for that.
However, I would be more careful about choosing the words and the metaphors that you employ to do this, because you have a tendency to use overly dramatic images that do not really fit the story that well. I also noticed that you do not provide a clear introduction that gives the reader a clear indication of the major themes and direction of your essay. You have described the
Letter Against Unionization Dear Mr. Hines Thank you for our recent discussion regarding the American Professionals Union's attempt to organize our nursing staff. The nurses have made their many grievances known and I have listened intently to their rationale about unionizing. With the widespread shortage of nurses, many hospitals have given way to unionization. This is not a new trend. It is a popular way for nurses to resolve challenges and negotiate
He clarifies his status i.e. A spiritual leader and a learned person by using well chosen ethos of St. Aquinas, Jesus and Paul therefore puts him forth as a trustworthy person. Also being an African-American makes him the right person to participate in this event because he understands the situation properly. By use of logos he explains the reason behind the actions of the black persons of which the
Furthermore the rhetoric here is rich in symbolism. Dr. King draws parallels between the response of violence to his peaceful protests and other great personalities whose commitment to justice, truth, and love also had unintended and unfortunate consequences. Personalities like Socrates and Jesus, for example, could not be expected to deny their truth for fear of public reaction. Dr. King makes this argument even stronger by also drawing the parallel
Stolen Party Dear Senora Ines, It has been over a decade since we last spoke, and although I have grown from an impressionable child to a confident woman, I find myself thinking about you more often than I would like. Luciana and I drifted apart during high school, as children tend to do, and that has never bothered me a bit, but there is simply something about my last experience with
I don't understand it, it happens all the time -- a half-way decent looking girl gets a vision of a bald shiny statuette, and it's off with the lip gloss and suddenly she's making like Angelina Jolie in some sweaty country on a bad hair day. More info on the secret room tomorrow, but I'm getting a way important IM right now, so I'll wrap it up. Massie Block Letter 1: Main