proposal left on a dangle

Please bear with me. Guess, I had too much vodka…. Or wish I had.
Too much things running inside my head. I do not want to think at the moment, nor do I want to stop to think about you. But…

Are you for real? Am I for real? Is that love that you feel? I mean, is it Really Love? This is a risk. And should I take this risk? Are you ready to take this risk with me? This is a gamble of fate. Of happiness. What are your intentions? What are My intentions? Do you really mean what you say? I will not ask if I do, coz I do, and that is the lone fact that binds everything else. You know, lust is not the driving point for me. But how clear are you on me regarding this matter? I have always been fantasizing of going to Athens with you… (hence, the already existing files about passports and visas) But I am not a heroine from a novel. I am not a nymph ready to grant any wishes. For my own desires are locked inside myself.

The step we are going to take, if ever materialized, is dangerous, profound, and yet solemn in every little aspect that may seem. But the sincerity is vague. Round-trip ticket? Staying for how long? Staying for what reason? We should be clear about our decisions. This may be a leap of faith. Or a leap to tragedie. I don’t wanna burry myself with endless sorrow… I don’t wanna feel worn out again… nor do I wanna burry myself with thoughts of endless “what if’s”. What pain shall I tolerate? The pain of being away from everything I know, and grew up knowing? Or the possible pain of being alone in a place I never knew?

And now, nothing from you for the past week is all the more confusing me. And then again... can I handle you? Can you handle me? You know my numbers. You know my mails. But nothing. And yes... NOTHING. Not a word. Not a ring. Not a smoke signal.

And now I fear... does nothing mean nothing? Do I have meaning to you at all?

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note: a forgotten letter written a long time ago for someone whose name I already forgot... or wish to forget.