Letter #17

Since that day. Over 10 years ago. The air has never set to clear to this day. The insignificant me received something out of your thoughts pocket. Neatly processed and done with care.

I, the ever-ignorant, was bound to a red string and never thought of it that much. You were also consciously bound in a situation no weirder than mine.

I still remember the reflection of your eyes. We were in a slightly dimmed situation, but nothing really erotic about it. I was erratic over something I’ve done, but you sat and listened anyway.

Over time you took a glance and made sure that everything was fine. Actually, I don’t really remember it. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me, or this is my pathological lying that speaks.

I think it was the last time we actually met. After that bloody rain. I was soaking wet, but somehow warmth fell inside. Never again we equally encountered each other.

Although I can never stop make-believe. However, there was one instance where I caught your features. I believe it was you. Well, things are different now.

I was not the kid I used to be, and you’ve grown up to be a precious rose that would never wilt. Only to admire.

No. I don’t regret not making contact on that night. You looked so happy. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for drastically changing your expression. I let it stays in my mind. I’d keep it alive until the day my heart stopped.

To end this rambling, keep nourishing yourself with tasty gourmets you can find anywhere in the world. So maybe I can hear your stories. Feeling proud of how you’ve become.

Sincerely,

Forever fatally yours.