Writing. Culture. Politics. Wandering.
it’s been twenty standard years, each of them anything but that, standing next to you. Saying goodbyes while watching sunlight at the bottom of an ivory tower reaching towards the sky. A proud tower delivering me instead to something resembling hell far more than heaven.
I will be returning soon, to my fair city though perhaps not to you. I apologise. I do not know whether you honoured our promise to wait, while I left civilised life for duty and further words of grandeur – taking on an existance where the proper passing of time was cut to pieces by calendars and conflicts of life elsewhere – I fear in my heart that this promise was one made not in hope, but in unrealistic aspirations. Twenty standard years is far longer than perhaps permissible, certainly longer than realistic in terms of passing of time, growing up, creating a life and more. Definitely too long in terms of the life I had out there. A soldier’s life, it is not what it was made out to be.
Please do not misunderstand me. This is all hard to explain. Suffice to say I will not be surprised should you have moved on from feelings and thoughts from a youth far less complicated than this adult life. Not a year has gone by without you visiting my mind. Nor have they gone by without doubt and sometimes despair. I have to be honest, because I have not been sure of us for too much time. Not knowing whether I am still the person you once knew, or whether the us I remember is the same as we once were. There have been times where I gave up, there have been moments where I clung to me and you as life itself. Doubts, despair, hope. Words, though these are all I have, not knowing whether we still have no need for them.
This letter will find you, of that I am sure. I also know that it will find you before my other dispatches, written throughout those years each unsent because of the formal divides between civil and military life. I hope you will read this message, but also the others preceding it for so long. If not to introduce myself again to you, then to understand the difference between that person and the one I am today. I offer my apologies to you, perhaps for shattering dreams, perhaps for disturbing a reality, in any case for the consequences of a decision I should not have made.
I have attached my itinerary along with a picture taken at my latest station. Yes, vows and oaths of family, I know. But I ask nothing, I will accept your decision, whichever it may be. When I arrive I will take the time to wait and see.
In memory of mind and more,
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