Quieten my heart

Dear friend,

I did not expect myself to be writing letters into the ether, but here I am still typing away when I even do not know for what reason. For this faith foremost, if nothing else, thank you. Faith which has allowed me to trust a tiny voice inside my heart, which has kept the promise of a new life alive, even at the darkest of times.

I have been so afraid of being alone all this time. I will not say that now I am not. I am still. Very much. But I also remember that one moment of calm you brought me years ago, when everything in this world and beyond seemed in perfect order. I remember a dream of flowing white, unfurling in a corridor lined with red bricks. I remember the first hesitant touch of a pure heart. And for giving me memories to pave my downtrodden way, thank you.

I tend to beat my self up. Cut myself just to see the whether the crimson will flow again. This was not something I was born with. No. This in fact, is a talent, I have discovered recently. I can suddenly see everybody's pain in front of my eyes. I now have the courage to bear everybody's pain, and come out with only my pain intact. Thank you for giving me a smile to bear all that was unbearable before I knew you.

A dream does not need a person to live. It can exist without, within, in another dimension. I used to dream. I used to live a life. I thought the two were separate. I found, much to my joy, that they are not. I dream of life which is a dream and I live it every passing second. Thank you for holding my hand and leading me to a place where dreams are a way of life.

On occasions of what I feel are betrayal of things in which I believe in strongly, I give in to fits of anger. I never seem to be able to throw that anger out at another person. It almost always goes inside. Except for the very few people to whom my getting angry might make some difference. And in spite of gulping down such intense rage it is surprising I am not bitter. I never seem to hold anybody to what I expect of them. Thank you for making me try to give up judging everybody. I'll keep trying.

A certain fluency with language gives a weapon of enormous power in one's hand. I have fumbled and tripped numerous times and put the power to bad use. My hand and mouth, however, has never strayed far enough to cause deliberate misery to anyone. I am thankful to you, for giving me the conviction to stand by what I say and write. With you as my editor, I do not fear insinuating fingers that point in my direction.

When I think about it, I cannot think of many occasions when I have not got what I have asked for. For the first time in my life I find that not only do I not control my own life, I do not even have the power to stay my head and heart. I fought the current for so long. Thank you for drowning me so deep that I give up all illusions of control which have plagued me till now. I see the light coming from above the surface, and I know now what eternal means.

There have been answers. But more than that there have been questions. I have been hesitant in facing these questions. Thank you for showing me that it is okay not to know all the answers. It is okay to cry once in a while, to be afraid and to act like a child.

Thank you for being my friend. I'll always hold you close to my heart.

FR