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The Journal of Jared Orlando

It's Labor Day.
09/07/2009 06:37 p.m.
I’ve mustered enough inner energy and outer anxiety to finally sit down in front of my own words
And it’s been a year since I’ve wrote anything fair about you, and for this I am sorry
But you don’t know my feelings and me enough to charge me of any offense
And this is the last letter, the last sentences I will write about you
The last pondering over and missing, it’s got to stop someday
Let today be the day that I tell you I love you, but I can’t keep waiting
Let tonight be the night that I tell you that you aren’t the subject of these writings
Let this be my chance to get the record straight and say I am not mad at you.
In fact, I’m happy for you, and things happen and I just roll with the changes.
I was pushed to the brink of acceptance, and here’s to me staying there.
Here’s to what was, and a drink to what may be.

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