Letters from an immortal existence.

“That faint voice of yours that grazed me
Please call my name one more time.”

December 1, 1856

To my beloved,

It has been two years since I lost you, two years since life seemed more bleak. The cold persists and I continue to long for you; I long as if I am unconscious, as if the void completely consumes me and leaves no air. From time to time, I ponder about the promise I made to you. It’s quite daft thinking back on our innocence and naivety at that time. I still remember your words as if you said them yesterday, the way your eyes watered and how your voice was barely a whisper by the end of your sentence. I remembered how you were so adamant about something so impossible, but even so, I promised you. Maybe, just maybe, someday we’ll get to meet again, and when that day comes, I’ll be able to keep my promise.

Love,

Yours Forever

———

December 1, 2021

To my beloved,

If you’re reading this letter, that means that I’ve kept my promise. Maybe it was the heavens above who answered my fervent prayers, or maybe it was fate’s plans. Nevertheless, I’ve found you. I can still recall the way your eyes shine when you see ladybugs or the scrunch of your face when you smell the sea. You are the same as you were nearly two centuries ago. I am still writing this letter to commemorate the day I kept my promise. When you asked me to promise to find you in your next life, I thought you were being ridiculous. I’ve seen people die for centuries, and you were the first who believed in a second life, the first one who trusted me. I will forever love you for all of eternity, for as long as I live and much longer.

Love,

Yours Forever

“The cold wind blows
I take your hand, I feel your breath
Once I close my eyes
We’ll always be together.”