There was something I wanted to say to you, as I often tend to do.
Several parts of this, I believe, have been spoken in past conversations as well, but I felt still needed to be condensed into a singular text, for both your sake and for mine. As you would already know by now, I find it easiest to compile and convey my thoughts when I write; a necessity in my line of work, one might say.
Instead of jumping directly to the point, might I rather take your mind back to last Christmas or thereabouts, when you delivered to me some news that should have been mundane at worst but instead shook me to my very boots. The simple fact that you had begun taking concrete steps to create a future for yourself should ideally not be something that alarms me. Considering your age, it is neither unusual nor unexpected. However, it did shatter this mirage of stasis in which we had been living for the past few months. The lack of knowledge of, or control over, the not-so-distant-anymore future of ours, however, is something that frightens me.
You often speak of your desire to preserve the shine in my eyes. To be honest, that does make me blush… It also makes me realise that you do feel, at least in some way, what I am about to say.
See, there are moments, when I am with you, when I am looking towards you or listening to you, or even when I am just thinking of you, and this innate feeling fills my heart to its brim; a simple, primal desire to wrap you in my arms and hold on forever, to encase you in enamel, or amber, or just somehow preserve and protect you in that moment, for posterity. The notion is, of course, foolish at its very base for two simple reasons: Firstly, the selfish reason is that any version of You that cannot change and evolve with the time we spend together is not something I can ever consider You. It is, however, the second reason that has been causing me some disconcertment, of late. The thing is, however hard I may try to capture You in that moment, the truth is that it has already fleeted past me. The version of You that I so wanted to preserve has already been destroyed, only to be replaced by another version of You that is nearly identical, apart from being a moment older, and hopefully a moment wiser.
Now, at the face of it, this does not seem as a fair cause for such concern, does it? Well, allow me to elaborate.
As I said, the lack of knowledge of, or control over, the future does frighten me in general. However, in our specific case, this fear is far greater, and for a very simple reason. Even today, I cannot help but feel anxious about the innumerable moments that pass while we are apart, moments that to me often seem like a huge waste of time. It pains me to know that the You I met the last time is already long gone, and the new You has already undergone an array of minuscule changes whose overall impact I cannot even begin to comprehend.
This is the equation that prevails while we are in this state of, at least in my opinion, stable equilibrium.
Can we even begin to imagine what might happen in a future where, by some stroke of fate, you are forced to move hundreds of miles away from home?
Can we begin to fathom the depths to which these changes in the equation will gradually change you, all beyond my sight?
Do we really want to find out how long it will take for me to one day look towards You and, after these infinite reiterations, see someone who only vaguely resembles the one I have always known and loved?
Would it be apt to say that I still love You, who would exist at that moment, as much as I love You, who resides deep within my own memory?
Would it even be apt to say that I love You?
Yes, I know that this is all too irrational, and that we should both trust each other to do everything in our power to stay as close as we are, no matter where life may take us. But can we say with absolute certainty that we will never drift apart? I cannot, and that frightens me.
It is something that does happen, despite our best intent. I have seen it happen to others around me, I have felt it happen with myself, and I have far too often failed to act. The burden of these failures of the past continues to weigh on me, and it is my own impotence in the matter that frightens me.
Of course, we cannot live in this fear, can we? I can at least say with certainty that I would, in no way, ever seek to hold you back from any opportunities that may come your way. I have no choice but to let you go, and just hope for the best.
That moment, however, is still only on the horizon yet. We do have at least a year now, here, together.
And hence, I come to my conclusion: I have found but one way to cope with this fear, and that is by showering upon You, in every moment I can find, as much of my love and attention as I possibly can, and perhaps a little more as well… I know, it can seem stifling or overbearing or just outright insane at times, but it is the only way I know how to be.
After all, if being saturated by this bizarre combination of blind optimism and gleeful idiocy is not called love then I honestly do not know what is.
Essentially, this is a Declaration of Love, and possibly more of it than you had ever asked. That is just how it is.
You just have to deal with it.