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A letter without an address
I’m penning this missive with warm discontent against you and the circumstances that surround us. You may not be aware of me but I’ve been looking for you since I came to know of your existence. You simply couldn’t be found though. There is something about you that’s been cruelly invisible. Perhaps it’s your face. If not, then it’s my mind. In any case, I wonder about the lack of ‘us’ in the foreseeable future. Not a day goes by I don’t wish we were known to each other. It seems as if you just aren’t anywhere close. Most probably, I am searching in all the wrong directions. That must be one of the reasons why we are still strangers. Out of desperation, sometimes, I fancy you on social media; but then common sense prevails and I pray hard this isn’t the case! The only positive outcome of this excruciating delay is that with every passing day, we are only getting older and a bit wiser (if you may). So the experience accumulated in the meantime will tend to enrich our soul. Speaking of which, I worry about you. I admit it’s almost bizarre to do so especially when the person in question is incognito. But still, that’s true. Every once in a while I think about your well-being. I do strongly hope you are healthy, optimistic and all the blah associated with Viva la Vida. But as long as I don’t get to see you, I can only speculate. Trust me, I ain’t good at it — I always guess wrong. And right now, I’m guessing that you’ve found your soulmate and are happy with him/her.