Dearly beloved, part 5: Thief

“Dearly beloved” is a series of love letters sent and received over a period of one hundred years.

June 11th, 1920

I remember once upon a time, we sat at iftar. I said, “I promised my father I’d take care of them”. “You’re a fool” your voice trembling with frustration. “I’ve seen my family suffer because they took care of theirs. But at the end family never gave anything back”. I was extremely hurt. I thought how unfortunate am I, that my wife to be doesn’t empathize with my sentiments and love.

Well, I am writing you to tell you- you were right.

I feel shameless telling you all this. But I felt like someone should know. A stranger perhaps. Unfortunately that’s what we are now, strangers to each other. And I wish you all the best. And expect nothing in return. Not even a reply. Honestly I never expect replies. You’re happy, you’re enjoying your work, and you found a man to love and marry. You have everything you ever wanted. I feel shameless interrupting your beautiful day. But I felt like someone should know, before I disappear. A stranger perhaps. Perhaps a stranger from another lifetime. Because that’s what we are, strangers from another lifetime. I hope you have taken off that bracelet I bought for you, you’re allowed to. But then again, I am nobody to dictate what you do in life. In my delusion of grandeur and my dunning-kruger effect, I’ve forfeited all rights. I understand.

I digress, back to the misery at hand. I’ve recently been faced with a lot of accusations. I don’t blame them. Everything has been run into an iceberg. I tried to fight the apocalypse, couldn’t. But, it’s all gone. And I can still restart this. rebuild this. But there’s the accusations. They don’t want me anymore. They’re deadset on not having me at the helm. They accuse me. They say I…

I tried to fight the apocalypse. And I have nothing left. An empty pocket and three terrible skills. Nothing but my shoes and my hands. And the accusations come. So I’m going to run away. Run away before they call me a thief. 

I’ve lost every ounce of strength I have. Practically dragging myself through this last couple of steps. Like an old rusty motorcycle, running on reserve fuel. Not knowing when it will shut down. I’m still trying to salvage the last of what I can. The assets will be there, put all the petty cash in an account, leave the check on my desk and disappear.

In a new city. In a new country. In a new lifetime. This city and this country has taken everything from me. I tried to fight for it. And it took, every love I ever had. Everything I ever loved, I sacrificed. I sacrificed you. Look at me now, running away, a thief. 

Forgive me for all the times I was not enough. There were so so many of them. But please. Try. I will not find peace in my departure otherwise.

I hope the universe forever brings you everything you love.

The indestructible.

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