Dear Anonymous,

I have been thinking. Such preoccupations explain the nightmares I had the previous nights. Your last memory in my mind has not faded much and the raindrops did not yet, carry it away. Although I wish to see you soon, I know the misery like a friend. It lingers on. Far from beautiful, for many reasons, I could only catch sight of you in my thoughts. Where is the magnetic affinity we used to possess? Has it been inadvertently hidden under your pillow or beneath my tears? This separation was, or is, amicable. At least we choose to believe it so.

Those days of us were cloaked with uninhibited exchanges. Sometimes, you were the composer and I, the audience. Often, the roles were exchanged. There was a kind of nonchalance about you that was silly and endearing. Your idiosyncrasy could hardly be replaced. I am smiling when I write about this. I feel so teased by you. When I heard that song, I stammered a disengaged thanks in my breath. So I presume those words sung were a proof of your thoughts. Alas, they smashed hopes like crushing stones.

I don’t desire just a dream. You are perhaps, something wonderful to which my faith clings. But for now, I wish a kind hand will wipe my pain away. If one lifetime is not enough for two human beings to explore the cosmos between them, then it is so unfortunate that we had only one sunrise and dusk with us. It was those moments which had enveloped us. This feeling – allied with a great sense of regret, is enclosed within this letter.

I send you a tinge of quiet pink today to commemorate a silence. You have entered and disappeared into my life. And it could only be anonymous.

Signing off,
Anonymous’s friend