Hello My Dearest,
It has been many years since I last laid my words down to rest and you, stacked amongst the many other forgotten stories in the shelves of my home. It is now that I bring this story of my life back to, well, life. So many years have since passed since we parted my old friend. Yet I feel as though naught a single moment has passed, it is like my breath flitting across your ears have never known this great period in which we have not spoken. It is ethereal, like the wind against the waves, or the steady beating of a heart. It is but in my nature to write, and write I shall. For this is the newest beginning of my story, another life, and another moment in which I hope to capture this fear of the unknown.
I'm so sorry old friend that I abandoned you, for so long it has been since that moment I set you away and that I abandoned myself. I have lost and gained many things during our separation, so I'll tell you of the things you've missed. I've left home, many homes in fact, as they say home is not only a place with four walls but it may also be the outstretched arms of another whose ear you lay against their chest, listening to that heartbeat you've come to know so well. I've left these homes, found more homes in which to live and have my many adventures. I was never known to be one who settled, but you've always known that, haven't you?
I have changed as well my dearest friend, it has been the aching in my stomach that has brought us back together, yet I know not as to why it only grows more intensely the more my hand flits across the pages of your mind, adding only to the library that is your mind. I can only guess that this familiarity fills me with comfort. You do not recognize the hands that graze your gentle skin, I can only tell you that they have been burdened with work and toiled through much pain and that they are not the only things to have changed. Certainly I have aged, but so have you. I can feel the cracks and wrinkles of your face mirroring my own now as the world has beaten against us from time to time. I can hear the creaks in our bones as we bend and turn to the great forces this life has told us are there, yet only proof of its force is shown through its actions upon others. I can only imagine how your mind has grown, expanded upon those shelves, looking out upon a world so ever changing.
And so my dearest friend, we do indeed make our acquaintance. I can only hope that our conversations would greatly bring peace to both the pits in our selves. Maybe you and I will find peace in one another, for the calm of familiarity will bind us both together. The tales of our pasts you could tell, how they could whisk our souls away to another life in which you had not cracked and I had not crumpled. Even now I can feel the smile upon my face growing, as though this friendship has rekindled something within us that has long since been buried beneath cold stones and cobwebs of the desolate homes we'd long since abandoned for hope of a warm place to lay our beaten and bedraggled bodies.
I reach to you now, my dearest and oldest friend. I seek from our conversations, a sort of, comfort with this. For I know our time together is not long, but I shall hope that in this exchange we both find something that has been missing for far too long, maybe that wanderlust most people seem to have become infatuated with. Or maybe just a simple sort of love, the kind you may only find when you visit a place from when we were young and our hearts like little bird staggered but soaring in the coming whirls of air.
Maybe, peace will find us in this time of greyness. Maybe we can find that fire, the one inside of us.
Maybe Yours,
Me
