I have procrastinated writing this letter because I’ve been telling myself that I’m fine. I’ve been telling myself that everything happens for a reason and that you came into my life for a reason. I’ve been trying to smile because it happened, not cry because it’s over. I’ve been procrastinating because writing about it makes it feel too real. The floodgates can no longer hold back though, so here goes.

What if that’s the last time I ever see you? What if kissing you at the airport is that last chance I’ll ever have to wrap my arms around you?

My mind wanders involuntarily to our happy memories: to cooking pasta in the AirBnB, to dance parties in the shower, to overcoming my fear of bicycles, and to seeing you grin from ear to ear when you heard me rap for the first time. What is this happiness? I don’t remember the last time my heart fluttered in my chest cavity with such excitement.

The wait was excruciating, but somehow we made it. Several sacrifices to the Skype gods and unimaginable patience helped quench our thirst. We slowly opened up to one another; learning, sharing and confiding over the course of several months. How could this happen? Half a year ago, I let you into my life. I didn’t ask for you to make your appearance, but strolling into my heart with your smile and singing eyes, it just happened. How could I go from hiding my blushing cheeks to boarding an airplane bound for a foreign land?

Time is a cruel mistress, however. When one is as eager as a child on Christmas Eve, it slows down the hands of the clock just to revel in the delightful torture it finds in it’s impatient victims. And then in the blink of an eye, nostalgia pleads for time to slow the rotation of the earth and go backwards. The happiness of new experiences, new friends, and new adventures is as quickly taken away as it was discovered.

Curse these confounded crossed stars. Who knows what might have happened if our stars twinkling in the sky had never crossed paths. You made me feel an emotion, buried deep inside of me and numbed from loneliness and distance, for the first time in years. I can’t thank you enough for sharing your music, your home, and your heart with me. I smile because I’m grateful that your dry humor pulled a laugh from my lungs. I cry because it was a week of bliss, one that would have undoubtedly blossomed into a something special if we lived in the same continent.

Hard as I try, the latter renders me inconsolable.

I still believe that you came into my life to serve a purpose, even if that purpose is different from the first one I so hastily assigned you back in the summer. Should your bitter sweet smile at the airport be the last memory I cherish of our time together, I’m grateful that I at least had the courage to cross the ocean for one last embrace. Astronomers may try to chart the trajectories of our lost stars in the night sky, but I prefer to remain blissfully ignorant. Call me naïve, call me gullible, call me what you want, but you entered my life for a reason and you will leave when you have fulfilled your purpose. Meanwhile, I will continue to sacrifice my time and sleep to the Skype gods until I have served my purpose and our star crossed paths can peacefully untangle themselves.


The one who knows that everything will be alright.