11th December, 19– 


Gabriel dear, 

    What does Life demand from you this time? I trust, surely, as everybody else will, you’ll get on strongly. I have tried your suggestion but it clearly isn’t for me. The matter of executing it alone did not suit me, I shall have to try something else. But never mind that. How’s that enterprise of yours going? I’m afraid I have come off rather strongly last time, I’m sorry. Do remind me though if I ever over-step some bounds. 

   Indeed, I have read and re-read the book thrice. I love it. There is something particularly about Shirley’s character that I can relate to on a personal level—which is something I won’t discuss yet at the moment. I have other things in mind for you. But I’d love to know, which one of the characters do you think you can relate to? 

   I have been wasting my time over silly nonsense. I’m ashamed—but one does get distracted a lot, easily, at least me. A lot of times I do something I want but after a minute or so get the feeling of wanting to do something else… I have been wondering though, and I have a question for you. You may think of it as something more like a gathering of opinion. It’s a series of “what if’s”, and, to get to the point, here are some of it. 

   Since of course, one does not know another person’s unabridged past except that of one’s self alone, what if one falls in love? What if that one were you? Suppose you have fallen for someone who was once a thief in her own household? Suppose she has stolen a very big amount of money? Surely that sets her off as someone who has a tendency to betray someone’s trust. But what if that were all in the past, meaning that she has changed(?) or wished to? 

  I imagine you would wonder, or at least a very distinct thought within me retorted: “How can you say that? Surely if she cares enough for a person, then she’d never betray that said person’s trust. Otherwise, such a person never mattered. She may have tendencies, but not to the ones that she truly cares for.” 

  But I dare say I imagine her nature as that of a person who, indeed, knows how to care—knows its pleasures, but that there is this other side that simply never fails to take place. And please do note that she notices her mistakes—a bit too late, however. She has urges, as we all have. And as we both know, such urges, sometimes, drive us crazy if we don’t appease them. 

   I have, in mind, an example of such a character—and it is thus: way back when such a person was much younger, she had a friend who, one day, showed her something that instantly got her attention. Let’s say that something was a lovely little purse. Do note that she was a child then; and children, (some if not all) as we both know, have this tendency to want what another child has. So, she observed her friend for a time, and finally, when that friend of hers wasn’t looking, she stole it. 

   Here, I’d be glad to remind you once more that such an instance was in the past. Let’s regard it as part of her darker nature which, once realized as she got older, ever since she has tried to dismantle. Also, such an act is part of her history that you “supposedly” know nothing about. It may or may not complicate matters to you but I felt I needed to provide an example. Truth is, I have a much graver (if such a word exists) case in mind, but I cannot bring myself to write it, for considering it alone makes me feel like I’m betraying someone. 

   Lastly, I have mentioned “urge”–this is one of those urges, this matter that I wish to ask of your opinion about, that would soon drive me crazy if I don’t get an answer. You interest me so I’m curious as to what your opinion would be. 





P.S. this correspondence of ours clearly isn’t one of those silly nonsense I talk about. Take care always! 



“Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long.”

This will never be the sweetest letter written to someone special, I know. But by dint of good Fate, I have made a very sweet mistake—that is, when I found you. 

 It was the last time I dreamt of you—a tale I’d rather keep to myself. And yet, last as it was, you have imparted me a smile that turned the dream into such a very…sweet…memory. You ceased not from crossing my mind—not after that, not even before. But always. Always… You have built a home for yourself deep within this sorry heart of mine that even when we no longer talk, I’ll always long for you, and wish to converse with you. 


I never meant to care, I swear. Never thought I would. But I did, anyway. 


 I do not wish to contend for your attention, yet truly I long for your affection; but here I’ll stop. Dear, just know that it is not because I decided to stop caring–I can never stop such a strong feeling; rather, that it’s because I do not have the power to, and I know it’ll only destroy both me and you. Already I have failed myself—I do not wish to fail you. 

2:42 am

832b288bcdcc0722e1c5f546b930c23f‘twas an occasion marked by the absence of sound; a calm, wispy night. Here and there bursts of laughter ensue, strangers gather ‘round tables and talk of things I know not what; there’s that old dame with an infant on her arms—a smile she bestowed, and vanished. Whilst I… Oh, I am with these faceless friends, with whom I know not what to say; they seem to be talking all at once. Across there he is—strange, but I know. Hell, he must be having such a good time; a smile slowly creeps up my veins. Everything seems to go on forever—the muted glam, senseless and faceless friends which, amidst, only his face registers on my mind. Then, alas! It happened so fast—a tumult caused by that man. I know him—but he does not know me. ‘Well, who am I anyway?’, and so thinking that, I dared not watch, and kept my head bowed, deigning my fingers to do something. It’s either I, who, am in an uproar, or the people ‘round—for, as he advanced, all fell silent… suddenly I felt a hand touch my head, and a voice said, “sorry,” rather playfully. I dared not, yet couldn’t help, but look up—and there he was: strands of my hair he touched…till I felt the side of my face his fingers brushed, as he uttered, “There you are.”