To my dear Sweetheart,

Correspondence. Such a warm, gentle, yet invigorating phenomenon. To just recieve correspondence is a wonder that I…

Wait. Did I just address you in the complete and traditional way that I used to write these letters, my darling? Centuries have swarmed by since the last time I addressed you as such. Maybe now it feels right to greet you as such, my darling. Maybe now, our journey is about to re-begin.

To recieve correspondence is a wonder that I cherish deep inside. To know that the heart I share is being shared back is a song I’ll always surrender for.

I celebrated that day. My loved ones would tell you of how I lit the worlds with light and colour, of how I raised everybody’s spirits since my own was blazing wild, of how I smiled.

I must say, I never expected to hear from you, my darling. You always made it clear that you were no longer part of my world. My soul could never bear the torture of that reality. But does my soul have to suffer any longer?

Now I await your next correspondence, if any. Was what I recieved even real, even true? Or was my mind conjouring a painful fantasy, all just to taste the idea of you in my life again.

The taste was wonderful, I’ll tell you that much. The sweet warmth that eased my entirety, the sudden flare of my spirit that sparked me into cheer, that immortalizing hope that raised my sights up high. Hope… That ‘painful’ hope. Painful now that I wait for news that seems not upon the horizon. Maybe all this wasn’t real after all, and maybe you’re not flying back down to these worlds. But why does my soul tell me otherwise?

That link that I wrote of a few letters before, I still feel it. I feel it through my soul. And somehow, my soul can still feel yours. As if they are still in stride and synchronisation. As if they still talk and dance. As if they were never apart. Reality down here in these worlds is quiet confusing. My soul acts as if it’s living in an existance that doesn’t accord with what I see here. It lives as if we are still in embrace, my darling. But we all know that that is evidently not true. Not in this physical reality.

We have much to share, my darling. We both know that. An unfinished symphony of sorts. And the weight I feel on your side tells me that you surely have much to release. At least that’s what it feels like, my soul tells me. Please don’t burden yourself while you journey the skies above, my darling. Our music has yet to even begin. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that wonderful? The practice sessions were exhausting and crippling. I know, my darling. I remember. But our song was never sung. I’m sure it would have been sweet, yet glorious. That is why I still look above, in hopes of a miracle. Father above, bless us!

I wonder if my prayers due above will ever reach you. I wonder if you’ll ever answer. Just know, my darling, that I still wait. Always have. Why else would I still be writing?

Love from yours truly,

-Daniel Roy