My Dear Fiona - Chapter 1 - My Dear Fiona

There are things we don’t talk about, and they weigh heavily on our souls. Who decided they don’t matter? Life is like virgin land. It only surrenders its bounty after we drench it in our sweat, tears, and blood.

People squander their lives, energy, and purpose as if they don’t value themselves enough to live for real, instead choosing to take a backseat and yield the spotlight to some higher power which, based on the results, doesn’t care about them too much.

While I’m writing to you, Fiona, I’m gazing at the same moon you watched from afar in your distress centuries ago, hoping for the miracle that never came, the one that would have freed you from your fear and pain. This moon is like a symbol of unanswered prayers. Some wishes are granted too late, aren’t they? I wonder if God works this way, if all the questions that are left unanswered are in fact processed in a much slower and more permanent frame of reference, in God’s time.

For some, this is a metaphorical musing. They don’t know how lucky they are, the innocents, to live their lives in real time, and not in retrospect.

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