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(This chapter is really short its just a letter, ps. i changed the face claim for raven)
Dear Raven,
As the sun dips below the horizon and stars claim the night sky, I find myself under the soft glow of my bedside lamp, struggling to encapsulate into mere words the torrent of feelings that surge through me when I think of you. It's a challenge akin to catching rays of sunlight in my palms; it feels both vital and impossible. How does one convey a yearning so immense that it feels like it was woven into the very fabric of their being from their first breath?
Raven, from the moment I saw you, something within me shifted-a tectonic plate within my soul realigned itself. Some might call it love at first sight, and if that's as close as we can get to naming this sensation, then so be it-I'm afraid I am smack dab in the middle of that inescapable phenomenon.
Each day since has been a chapter from a book I never knew I was desperate to read. Your laughter, light and unburdened, is a symphony to my ears; your compassionate spirit feels like a beacon in what often appears to be an unforgiving world. The way you move through life, caring deeply for those around you, has not only captivated me but has also challenged me to become more than I was before knowing you.
Sometimes I ask myself what are mere age and numbers when set against a connection like ours? Yes, six years may spread between us-a gap notable to some-but does time really dictate who we come to cherish? I observe the world in its chaos and rush, and if there's any certainty in my young heart, it's that feelings like these should be treasured rather than tabulated.
I'm writing this now because these thoughts have been an undertow in my daily life, present enough for me to feel their pull but silent until this quiet night. And perhaps this is where they would have stayed-locked within-had these words not found their way onto this page. For such a confession seems as daunting as it is necessary...
Suddenly, my heart stalls-the door creaks open and my father appears like an unexpected shadow across my now blurred words. Panic seizes me; vulnerability like this isn't something readily shared with...
"Dad!" My voice sounds too tight as I slam my journal shut over the letter still trailing off mid-sentence.
Rick stands there, his eyes briefly flitting toward the journal before he dons an expression of obliviousness that must surely be feigned.
"Just checking on you," he says casually before wishing me goodnight and gently closing the door behind him.
Hidden safe beneath my pillow lies this revelation-my penned attempt at baring a soul not quite ready for daylight nor for a father's knowing gaze.
