Novel

Dear dear,

I want to give you the words I never did, to tell you how to say things that need to be said in never.

There is little to be said now, which is why I have written so much. I am trying to fill in the space to make you feel less like it. I want you to know that though I want to give you words, though I repeat the wanted, I want to describe more than that.

I am not sure what that is for you anymore. I thought it maybe you sitting here in sunshine, found among the hundreds of pictures I took, looking away but still here. Maybe it was caught in the hairs of my cat, in her domestic dominance. Maybe it was in books I would show you, tell you of. Maybe it is in the notebooks not written but that promise good stories. Maybe it is in the unknown to be never told and discovered.

Much has been. Much cannot be anymore. I won’t tell you what is good or bad or should happen now. What I will say is you are you are you are you. Totally. You ride laughter. You sing love. You can summon being by being, by seeing the life the lived do not feel while living. Your own.

Know that in it and with it, you are untouchable, though you have been; that you are hope itself, though you are not full of it; that you are enough, though you that may not mean different things for different people; that you do not need those different people, though they will eventually sound the same; that you are the radiance of a universe now, though it too passes; that you can achieve more than is defined in the word, though there will be the success story of failure; that you do not need belief, though you are a collection of them; that I myself am a small collected part of forgetting you, though you are unforgettable. Any advice is trite. All of it has been said before in mumbles. The only thing that hasn’t, up to this point, is you.

I am so lucky to have met you, to understand that though I want to give you words, you are the sentence, the paragraph, the whole library wedged into something that never has been before. Be more still. I will follow like a slow reader, finger trailing your body in love.

Your I,
Kacper