the deluded ones [#2]

galena

july 28th, 2017

dear you,

today, you are eighteen, and, by law, they say you are a legal adult. you have grown so much; you've waited your whole life to finally reach this point in time, and you have. you've finally reached another age, a milestone in your lengthening list of victories, and i am proud, so very proud.

to have met you, to have known you, it's a gift, a treasure, that i can never ever be truly grateful for enough. despite the times of hardships, despite the words that my family may whisper, i will be strong and defend your name with the air that lives in my veins and the voice of my throaty brain. i will endure the pain i was meant to encounter since the day i was born, and i will be reborn again with fire in my eyes and vigor in my soulful mind.

as you once said on may twenty-ninth of two thousand seventeen, our stories are unique respectively. we were born with paths that were written and plans that were drawn, and, somehow, in one of those paths, we were destined to meet.

so, we did. we met, and then, we diverged before we found our way back to each other again. why? i simply do not know, but, as you said, the story we've created involving the two of us is a story that is good. our story is great because we created it to be, and, although the reign of sorrows is high, the possibility of joyous futures is whimsically there too.

and it's raining here now, only just a bit, and it reminds me of you a little bit. i see you in so many things, everything small but large too. size does not seem to matter; it never really does because even the smallest of things can have the largest of impacts. even an ant, as small as it can be, is capable of lifting the heaviest of things. its colony depends on it to do its job, and, when done correctly, the ant impacts its entire colony.

the rain only drizzled for a bit, and then, a brief light appeared through the cloudy skies. to me, my mind is like the cloudy skies. sometimes it drizzles; other times it pours like there is no tomorrow. but there are moments where there's a brief shining of light, and those moments impact my entire being as a human in the greatest of ways because, even if the impacts are small every time, they accumulate and become so much more. those brief lights over these past amazing and eventful months were you.

the day and night are both alike. the day is bright, glowing in its dashing rays of sunshine. the night is dark, basking the world in nothing more than mystery and moonlight.

but to each day there is night. to an eternity of brightness, there are a thousand specks of darkness, blocking the glow of life. but to every endless darkness, there are hundreds of lights because, despite the sadness of life, there is happiness to be found, and, despite the hopefulness of joyfully living, there is the despair of breathing.

every bright day has one major darkness, and each darkened night has one major light.

and you were that darkness but also that light at the same time in my simple yet complex life.

you have the honor of being that light to me, but perhaps it's not really an honor to you. i can never know, but it meant so much to me. despite the fear of being forgotten, there is a reality to it all. as i said on march twenty ninth of two thousand seventeen, you can forget people; it is easy to. however, you can never forget how they made you feel.

every sorrow, every tear, every laugh, every smile, every joy, every living moment, they are feelings that are capable of being so much more; those feelings exist in every memory and can affect the way you live your life forever. how do i know? because i do. i've felt, and i've lived, just like you. you made me feel so many things on the latest of nights and earliest of mornings, and i could never forget the way i felt each time you said a kind word or life-giving phrase.