current music: Prayer Cycle - Hope

I've been thinking about doing something like this for a while now. Let's just see where it takes us. I consider this the message I'd write to be placed inside the very last bottle on this metaphorical deserted island. May it find the person it seeks.

OPEN LETTER TO ONE I DO NOT WISH TO EMBARRASS BY NAMING

Hi. We haven't talked in years, you and me. I know it's odd that you're reading this now. I find it unsual myself, considering that the last letter I wrote you served to drive us apart. But that's old stuff now. I'm certain much has changed in your side of the globe.

Me? I guess I'm okay. I'm positive you haven't heard about me in a long while. Friendster was enough to prove you had forgotten me. And yet, in a skewed, strange way, I'm glad you have. You see, I always thought that I should disappear from people's lives for long periods of time. Then, after I'd have gone through changes (like, become more outgoing, or lose weight), I'd find you again. And I'd see how people like you would find it all. How I got to start anew, how I got myself on the right foot.

Strangely enough, I'm the leopard who couldn't shed any of his spots. I still write poems when I'm lost. I still keep other people's secrets and worry about them silly. I still like reminding people that I'm around. I still wish I could let people understand what it'd be like if I weren't around.

I still think of you. After all these years.

I still think of you when I see starry nights, remembering how your eyes looked like, without your glasses. I still think of you when I see people dancing arm in arm. I still think of you when I see angels, and how you told me they meant something to you. I still think of you when I write poetry, and of the talks we've had about the topic. I still think of you when I hear stories about people who physically hurt themselves because they felt so lost and frustrated. I still think of you when I'm lost myself, and how your presence over a phone line kept me going fine.

I think of you when I see toenails painted red, like the night I told you how much I liked your shoes. You told me then that it wasn't new. But I wasn't really looking at your feet. I was just doing my best not to stare at your face that night, lest I be rude. And it wasn't easy mind you; you looked quite beautiful.

You haven't heard a peep from me about it, and yes, it's better that way. Last time we talked, you told me there was this man in your life, and that he was jealous as hell over guys like me who called. Fine. I decided to let whatever emotional attachment you held on me go. Like the poem goes "if little by little, you forget me, I shall forget you, little by little".

And yet somehow, I've not forgotten you. I can't forget you. Not you. After all, it's not easy wiping someone's tears and forget you were there when they wept? Or that maybe, just maybe, you knew what to do to stop them from crying, but you couldn't, and never forgive yourself for years to come?

Years passed and somehow, news about you still arrived. About how you were doing in school, or how you were so involved in dance and stuff. It was odd, hearing them. I thought I had moved on and was slowly making better. But truth be told, I also missed you. And it hurt knowing that when I started having feelings, we had to live separate lives.

For the most part, it's alright. But in my quiet moments in prayer, in thought, in meditation... thoughts still return to my past, which includes you and others I fail to be there for. Each time, I cannot do much but lift hands heavenward, for the hands can do little else than pray. And it isn't a good feeling.

I do not know why I'm compelled to write this. All I know is that somehow, we disappeared from each others' lives. I do not regret liking you, even if all the signs show me that you never did nor would feel the same way. I do not regret listening to your problems on the phone. I do not regret walking away from that evening an angel less and a few tears on my coat more.

All I know is that as I write this, I try to cast your memory away. For I know that I can't fully love others until I do.

I fervently hope that you're happy, wherever you may be. And if I find you again, please don't take it against me that I act like I've forgotten you. I'd prefer the anonymity, honestly, just as I'd expect you not to respond should I call out your name out of the blue some odd place else.

Goodbye and God bless,
Raphael