I’ve written to you a million times. Some words have made it onto stone, while others have been left in the ether, I hope blowing in the winds heading in your direction. I do not control the currents, yet the bottles I have cast into this Sea are meant for you, for the hopeful union of our time, our space, and our journeys.
Through the moments I have cared for you, my heart has been its purest. Though my secrets live and die with you, my intentions once hidden now exposed, the purity remains. Though my own insecurities echo in the chambers of my mind, my heart remains steadfast in a certainty of its own. My soul knows, and I feel no compulsion to disagree.
I can see the crumbled mountainsides of my past, the debris of time strewn all about the roads I once traveled. I can see the smoldering ruins of bridges I have burned, and of the remnants of the places I once played destroyed by the sacred winds. What I once saw as destruction I now know as rebirth. What I once thought was disastrous I now know feels beautiful. What was once death is now alive, and life itself has taken on a meaning all its own.
I tell you things I used to whisper, and I whisper things I used to keep deep within my soul. I’ve watched you through the peephole and stared at you in the sky. I’m not sure where I am going, yet I know every step along the way has led me here. I’m not sure where you are heading, but if I but have a moment’s breath to smell your fragrance, I will have lived my life for real. I will sit in that space with you, inhale your scent, and live with the memory forever.
There is a depth between us, and a depth that surrounds us. I can feel its eternal bottom, and I know the truth of this reality. What seems crazy to the mind rings true to the heart, and the chills felt and the sighs heaved speak a language of their own. I’ve heard them, I trust them, and though my mind sounds bells of insanity, my heart beats remarkable oaths to the promise of this moment.
What am I to do but share with you this truth? Who am I to turn to when the pulsing of my heart calls your name? To which voice am I to obey, the one within my mind or the one within my heart? I want to carry you through the smoke, drive a hundred miles to change your tire, hold the space and time you need while never letting you forget the depths to which I’ve risen just to see you smile.
One day, as my hopes and dreams are played where I sit, words will be used but be unnecessary. You will feel my fingertips raise bumps upon your back, and you will know. You will feel the power of your hand in mine, and you will find the truth. You will falter and I will carry you. You will call for me and I will come. All that you have sought, that’s been seeking you, will be found in me, and I will be found within your arms.
Hopes. Dreams. The sanctuary of fools, the monument of the insane. Let me be a fool. I have nothing worth being sane for. I would rather wake to you, get your coffee, hold your face in my hands, and kiss you with the rising Sun. Sanity seems a darkness in which I’ve lived too long. I wish to walk in the light of craziness!
Yet, the reality. I sit and breath in the realm of the conscious. Yes, I will wait as I have. Yes, I will be here when your cracks are whole. You are not alone as you face those beasts, and if my blood is spilled upon the soil where we stand, a beautiful garden will be born. If the wind is taken from my sails, I will build my home upon the sea.
Goodnight, my dear. I will write to you again. I promise.