is this the time of our lives? because this must not be it. this cannot be it; all is but dared and yet i have spent my days fearing this changing. you, my darling, had been with me long before it started. it had been you beside me while i bled through it all—wisdom teeth gone and grown all over while you tower over the things i should have needed. i was a child but you would wound me through it to warn me and i understood the warmth in it. my darling, you had been long gone before this had to be all over. but i imagine you seeing me as i reach it—this next life you have longed for. the embers would not hurt anymore and we'd walk on water; i was to start chasing you without those fears in your eyes.
a/n: a letter written in december 2017.
