Dear Acquaintance,
You keep asking when I'm coming home but you're the one who told me 'home is where the heart is.' Where do you go when your heart longs to be in fifty different places? I've got two feet and I'm not afraid to use them. I believe that if I suffer it doesn't mean defeat. As you have figured out already, I'm gone. There's a chance that I may be off my mark but at least I know how to listen to my heart. I left and I have no intention of looking back on the past. I guess this much about me can't be found on the back of your hand.
Christina
P.S.: I miss you.
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