Member-only story
Of Love, Life, and Death
An Open Letter To My Dear Ex-Best Friend
Here is my journey in finding myself to be one with myself, but before I begin, let me remind us where we have both left.
It has been two years since our cycle disconnected. During the two years, silence has been the only last retreat I had because anything else within our cyclic life had spectacularly tumbled down. But before I threw some shades over all of you, I realised that I should have looked into myself, because who was I anyway? A little soul of anger and rage, glazed with betrayal and defeat.
So for these past two years, I found myself travelling out there and about, but soon I realised the further away I travelled, the more the distance retracted me to nowhere else but myself. In other words, the past journey was substantially no other than finding myself to be one with myself. So in such a way, I could find love and compassion. The two that just awoke from a deep sleep, and found a way of understanding life — of past, present, and future — and to one circumstantial extend, death.
One truthful remained between us that we undeniably loved each other. But what is love? It is nothing but an immense yearning to include the other as a part of yourself.
