♪Close your eyes
and please don't let me go♪
12th July 2001
My dearest Araceli,
Even now as I write this, the first thing I think of is your smile. You have the sweetest smile, one that burns in my mind even as the low flame of this candle before me dies slowly, flickering along with the wind as you sing a random tune, your hair a vision in the orange sun as you move like the most graceful of birds, with their wings fluttering, just a little, before they take flight.
These past few months, our friendship, your words under the starry skies as we spoke truths we didn’t dare with anyone else… all of it has been indeed the best thing a man, an old one like myself, can only dare to hope for.
I wonder when I’ll see you again, and if I even will. Apart from your dark eyes, depths that I can’t begin to explain to just about anybody, I have to tell you that it’s your mind that set you apart from all the other women I’ve ever met, and I’ve met quite a few. You have astounded me once again, and as I told you once, high school is only the stepping stone to a future you have laid before you, like an empty canvas.
When you can, you must write to me. Friends like us are the stuff of miracles, and if I ever have your love when you’re old enough to decide, then so be it. Imagine a thirty year old being able to talk about war with a mere seventeen year old, and have her understand his dirt and misgivings. I can never replace our bond, and I can never hope to replace you.
I don’t know why you’ve done what you have, if it is the best choice for you. You’re delicate, like a flower in the moonlight, and I fear once dawn approaches you may wilt and fall apart… but you’ve managed to surprise me till now, so I dare say you’ll go right ahead and do it again.
I pray you find strength and power, and I pray you feel the pride I once felt wearing a uniform for a country I will love, eternally, for I was first of the soil of those dreams that rose from the nation that is India.
Your one-legged ex-lieutenant friend, (for we will always be friends, no matter your decision)
Jo Murthy
PS Your father blames me for your choices. Dear Ara, what did you tell the man?
YOU ARE READING
Stag Tales Moon Talk
Teen Fiction"Must there be a cliched dialogue a man says to the woman of his life as he proclaims his love for her?" "There must," she answered. "It's the one thing that all girls dream about as they fall asleep, wishing for a man who'll understand all of her i...
