I love my Hamlet so much. He's amazing and everytime I see him, my heart melts. The letters he writes me makes it easier to not miss him so much. But I'll never forget the time he came into my room. He grabbed me and shook me. That's what really scared me the most. I never thought he would ever get like that. I know he did not mean to hurt me, he didn't. I did not know what was going on through his head. I want to help him, but I'm not sure how.
I can't believe my father thinks Hamlets love is not real. It is! It isn't like fashion. The love I have for Hamlet will last a lifetime. I'm pretty sure Hamlet loves me the same. It's not like a toy in blood. The metaphors my father use make me sick! All my father cares about is his reputation.
Now the king and queen want me to lure Hamlet. I can't believe they're using me to see if he's crazy because of me. How can they even start to blame me? I know it's their son, but they should give him breathing space. If he's going mad, it isn't because of me.
It's hard for me to say this, but I think my father was right. Just like a toy in blood and just like fashion. Hamlet hath betrayed me. He told me to go to the nunnery. He thinks I'm unfaithful and a whore. I've remained devouted to him while he's been away. I can't bear the pain of knowing he doesn't love me. I wish I had the power to just not care, but it's so hard. Losing the one you love is jabbing one-hundred figurative knives in someones heart.
Words, words, words...
13 years ago