a litany of ruminations

XXXVI : letters to a dead lover

plucking flowers like never-read letters of a lover left behind, fluttering petals drifting in the desiccated wind, dry and paper-thin.

he/she's gone.

loves me.

a petal, tugged, twisted, silken surface stroked oh-so-gently with tremulous fingers before being tossed out to the spiraling gusts scattering dead leaves...

loves me not.

another, gone, drifting away.

loves me.

loves me not.

loves me---

all that is left behind is a husk of once was, fragile beauty torn away by the howling wind.

a letter from a lover left behind.

dear ______,

i miss you.

i love you.

i'm doing well, the flowers are blooming...aren't they beautiful? i wish...you were here to see them.

it's all thanks to you, ____! i think...i can finally move on. because i know that, no matter how cheesy it sounds, life and death cannot do us part.

i think i understand now. it's taken me so long, but..you've been right here by my side all along. in the little things i can see a flash of your smile, the flowers blooming like the love that had been between us.

i know that maybe you'll never read this, but i want to let you know, wherever you are, wherever you may be...

i feel euphoria. euphoria, like the essence of you. i've been happier than i have been for a long time.

it's a long time since i've smiled. laughed like this.

isn't it funny?

i think....

i think

it's time to say

goodbye.

(goodbye to the phantom shadowing my footsteps, expression edged with bittersweet sorrow and blowing a kiss on the same winds-- letters, hundreds of letters addressed to a lover beyond the grave, sealed envelopes never to be opened, hands caressing tear-stained scrawls of ink, nights spent scrawling furiously, haunted of a reunion never to be, never to be...)

' please excuse my not mailing this — but I don't know your new address. '

(- Richard Feynman)