A love letter sent seventeen years later
Dear friend
It has been a long time. Seventeen years to be exact. I don’t know if I’m on your mind as often as you are in mine. I don’t even know if you are alone or living a happy marriage. I just know that last night, Leonard Cohen died. And while I was listening to our favourite song and watching news of the Election, I was thinking of how unpredictable the world and our whole life is. So I gather all the courage I have in me, and I’m writing this to you, hoping our souls to heal and grow a bit more.
Whenever I look into the past, I realise I’ve been a fool so many times, and I’ve made horrible mistakes. I guess it’s a part of life and being young. We hurt each other all the time especially if you believe that someone, loves you no matter what. I like you to know that after all those chaos and disasters, I sat down and read all your letters from the very beginning to the end, and I was amazed by the insight you had and how well you knew me. You knew me even more than I knew myself. You warned me that he would hurt me and he did. I thought I had found love. I desperately wanted it to be the love that my favourite authors have written all about it for centuries. I felt I knew it and I thought I was so wise.
Now that I’m older and not wiser but a bit more sensible, I believe love is attention; attention to details. And I still remember that eighteen pages you wrote me about my hands.
Last time I saw you, I watched you from afar and how I wish I could talk to you and tell you that I’m hurt, and I need you, but I couldn’t. I left that day hoping our path to cross again somehow, and it never did. All these years I was secretly hoping for a chance meeting while walking in every street of our hometown. I’ve moved to a new country now as if I’m on a new planet and I feel a big part of me is lost. I walk through the streets, not carrying the hope to meet you again.
Writing for someone who you haven’t met for so long is a hard task, but life has thought me, sometimes you should put away your foolish pride. Now that we are grown-ups and maybe a little more forgiving, I write this here. I’ve never intended to hurt. I wish you a wonderful life wherever you are and know that you bring a smile on my face whenever I think of our young love.
