To start this, I do not know how to start.
No words can accurately describe how I feel as the languages of man exist in such a manner which cannot fully capture the human condition. I write this with fumbling fingers and a shaky heart, as there is no other way to begin a letter to myself and perhaps an analysis of my experience of the human struggle.
I find it necessary to preface this massive embarrassing text with a few notes on the situation itself, my person, the subject of my fixation, and the questions which I believe to be relevant in my rant which itself is a question of what is to be done, and what I must do.
I am 22 years of age, my occupation is nothing of note, my family life is horrible and barely what is considered a family beyond blood relation, my sexual life is nonexistent even self-abusive in a way, my aspirations are fragmented and constantly dismissed, my personality is that of a meek pushover in face to face meetings and a loud persistent and dedicated speaker, I have never been in a relationship and do not know if I could ever say I have had a true friend.
The "subject of my fixation," this is embarrassing and I think inappropriate label I have given to a person who has so much to say and such a wonderful personality. To limit such a person to a fickle and abusive label such as "subject of my fixation" hardens my heart and I cannot continue to use it, instead I will use a name which could only resemble the immense personality of this person, Arete, meaning in greek "excellence or virtue." Arete is 22, occupation of a store clerk, education in college though she has a history of being short with grades and skipping I have encouraged her to pursue her education further, I know little of her sexual life and I won't even start to think of it, I know some of her relationships, her friendships are vast and intimate, many are attracted to her kind personality which is full of humor and nurturing spirit, the intricate story of her life cannot be simply spoken here nor could it be spoken in form as it is not simply a story of someone's life but the deep wealth of her personality reflecting in all those she knows and all that she does. The small puddle which is myself cannot express the vast ocean she is, supplemented by a firm mountain of personality which melts into the waters of her life.
The relevant questions, i'm not too entirely sure. I believe this is most what I need and why I write this, to understa
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