And as she gazed at the words, her eyes were drawn to the dates, each representing a passage of time, a chapter in the author's life:
1507
I have never written a letter before.
1508
I don't know what to write.
1509
...
1511
My heart aches.
1512
1514
The ink that flows from my pen cannot possibly convey the depths of my longing, the torment of my regret, and the fierce determination that fuels my every breath.
1516
I must confess, my beloved, that my heart aches with the thought that you may be completely gone from this world. The idea that my own shortcomings may have played a part in driving you away is a burden too heavy to bear.
1516
Your life, so precious and radiant, extinguished because of my flaws—such a reality is a torment that gnaws at my very soul.
1517
I cannot do this.
1518
How I wish I were deserving of the love you bestowed upon me. Your affection, so pure and unreserved, illuminated my life like the brightest star in the darkest night. Yet, in the face of such boundless devotion, I found myself faltering, unable to reciprocate in a way that would honour the flame you ignited within me.
1518
My heart aches with remorse.
1519
I yearn to turn back time, to rewrite the past, and to prove myself worthy of the love that you so generously offered. But, alas, time is unforgiving, and the choices I made or didn't have led us to this painful juncture.
1520
I could not do it, Princess. I have not forgotten you. How could I? The memory of your laughter, your touch, your unwavering belief in us lingers in every corner of my mind. I cannot erase the echo of your presence, nor would I ever want to. You are a part of me, etched into the very essence of my being.
Yet, as much as I yearn to seek you out, to bridge the chasm that separates us, I find myself bound by an inescapable truth. I must wait. Patiently, with a heart that aches and a soul that yearns, I must wait until the remainder of my soul can no longer remain in my body and fade away to find the other part dwelling within you.
1521
Waiting is a torment of its own. I long to traverse the realms in search of you, to find you no matter the obstacles, the hardships, the barriers that stand in my way. I am prepared to endure, to fight, to journey through time and space until I am reunited with the part of me that completes this fractured soul.
1522
I miss you.
1522
I'm going crazy.
1524
If I held the quill of destiny in my hands, I would rewrite our narrative to align with the symphony of my heart. I would sculpt this world, no matter the challenges that arise, to embody the aspirations that course through my very being.
1525
I've been consumed by a vision, a yearning for a world where every thread of our existence is woven into a tapestry of perfection. In my musings, I imagined a reality where the Zealot family's presence was but a fleeting thought.
I dream of my father and mother finding each other in the embrace of love, leading simple lives as commoners. A union built not on titles but on the purest emotions that bind two souls together
And for Harvey, finding Amber as a palace princess with parents who love her and care deeply for her. Their days intertwined in a harmonious symphony of happiness.
Luciana would find a love worthy of her essence. Children would fill her life, a reflection of her heart's desire. Their family, a sanctuary of love, would thrive under the warmth of shared laughter.
Alvin, my dearest brother, would stand hand in hand with Susan, always fed up with her antics, but he wouldn't leave her. Because it was those quirks that first drew him to her.
As for the woman who held my heart, I envision a world where she could shed the masks society imposed. In this perfect realm, she would dance with me, the village's heartbeat echoing in the rhythm of our steps. Our daughter, a reflection of her strangeness, would grace our lives with an otherworldly light.
And then, one day, we would all converge under the gaze of the moon, laughter flowing by the riverside and playful jests exchanged with villagers. The world would mirror our dreams, a harmonious symphony orchestrated from the threads of our desires.
1525
But know this, above all else—I am prepared to wait, to hold vigil until the threads of our souls find their way back to each other. My commitment is unwavering, for as time unfurls its tapestry, I remain steadfast in my resolve. My mark, my blood. They will draw you to me and I to you.
1526
The moon waxes and wanes, and with each cycle, I am reminded of the patience that defines my love for you. It is a waiting game that binds us, connecting our souls through the ebb and flow of existence. When you return—or if you return—we shall embark on a journey together. A journey that transcends the boundaries of time and space, a journey that leads us inexorably to the place where we were always meant to be.
1527
With a love that knows no bounds.
The next year came with a different writing.*
1533
Father passed.
And now I shall bring a close to this two-decade-long letter.
I hope you find each other.
Goodbye, Mother.
The words danced before Alicia's eyes, each sentence carving deeper into her heart. A lump formed in her throat, her chest constricted by an overwhelming flood of emotions. Alicia clenched the letter to her chest, a sudden quake shaking her body, threatening to shatter the fragile facade she had been holding up.
She tried to hold back, to control the surge of emotions threatening to erupt, but her body betrayed her. A startled sob escaped her lips, and with it, the floodgates of her emotions burst open. Tears streamed down her cheeks, unstoppable and uncontrollable, as her shoulders shook with the weight of the years that had led to this moment.
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