Caught.

Sometimes I write letters that I never mean to send.

Letters to the Universe full of all my most private thoughts and ideas as a means of working things out in my head.

Sometimes if my words are especially negative or melodramatic, I burn them, as a sort of ritual of release.

This morning I burned a two-page double-sided letter to the Universe, detailing my latest feelings and thoughts  of self-loathing, sadness and anger.

The letter burned rather quickly and damn near completely…except for a small scrap of paper on which clearly could be read three words:

you

seem

caught.

 

If that’s not a fitting observation from the Universe, I don’t know what is.

Perhaps I am caught, indeed.