sittin here, writing to you

so here I am. sitting in an empty room, writing in a little purle book. writing letters he may never read. words he may never know excisted. and somehow, it makes me feel a little better. my family is staring to worry about why I never leave my room besides to do chores and school, but I feel better. I really do. maybe it's cuz I know that somehow we'll get through this and he will read those letters...if this is gonna go on for five months I need more notebooks -_-