Dear Friend,
Ever since i have learned to be aware of this world you have been the constant immovable pillar.
You are a staunch friend: unflinching and resolute in your friendship. Life without you is unimaginable.
Over the years i have come to understand that not everyone likes you and yet, no one can deny their pact with you. Some fear you, some are melancholic about you; and then there are those who embrace you for the truth you stand for.
Dear Friend, there have been many stories about you. Some tell me you are very demanding in your friendship, often unforgiving of your friends. Some tell me you are difficult to meet: elusive and fleeting in your presence. There are some who tell me you change faces and others who tell me that you are but a reflection of who we really are.
Many yet say that knowing you is a pain: ephemeral and cathartic. Others argue that your friendship is palliative: it soothes frayed nerves and fickle hearts. But i will not heed any rumours before i meet you.
Speaking of meeting you, i knew those who have met you. Most of them waited long and lonely for their first encounter with you. Many of them acutely unaware of your presence: for you are the eternal prankster. Always springing surprises on us unsuspecting fellows.
i am not too fond of surprises, i tell you. i know you may feel misunderstood and betrayed. i know that in spite of having such a large circle of friends you are alone. But for all your virtues and vices, dear Friend, i can’t wait to meet you. In fact with each passing day i know i am closer to meeting you. i hope we have a long conversation when we meet and you will not whisk me away on a journey i haven’t packed for.
Dear Friend, wherever you are. Know this: i am dying to meet you. But not today.
Until tomorrow,
Yours-to-keep-forever.
Image: Public Domain CC0 Image And His Name That Sat On Him Was Death (plate 3 of 12), Odilon Redon, 1899, France, Lithograph in black on cream China paper laid down on ivory wove paper. From the Art Institute Chicago.