I told you everything, shared everything, did everything. Yet, you remain in your tower, thick walls and height sheltering your fragile soul from a world you are too afraid to understand.
I have showed you the river can be crossed. Yet you remain on the other side, unmoving, by the side of the gushing river.
The heart aches, my soul cries in sadness. In my disbelief, my mind shed down its shield. I still find it difficult to believe your refusal to meet yourself.
I remember a different you, a different us. Now, I know that what I saw in you was merely a reflection of me.
It was a truly important journey for me. Difficult, tough – perhaps that is why I honour it so much.
The cursor blinks on the white screen. I know I am writing this letter for myself. But not only. I am also writing this letter for my future partner. It is said that the way a relationship is ended will define the next one.
I am hoping that sending this letter out there, in the vast cyberspace, will somehow resonate across time, space, all dimensions and all realities. Perhaps, the trickster god will be so amused, he would entertain the idea of seeing – me (!) – in a stable relationship. Perhaps even have children, despite being already 40.
Somehow, the amusement I fantasize for the trickster no longer seems and feels threatening. Somehow, returning home to someone I love seems, and feels, just right.
Which makes me wonder – perhaps, the greatest reason for still loving you in gratitude is that, without your walls, I would not have learnt how to scale towers and mountains. The biggest challenge is the best teacher.
I learnt, I changed. Eventually this sadness will be a distant memory, replaced by new ones both good, and bad. Yet, when I will be casting a look back at this time, I will never forget the gift of Us, and what I have learnt.
There is nothing that is not out of place. Every single thing is exactly where is has to be.
I love you, I leave you. Goodbye my love.