To my dearest love: Trying is always the best place to start! Life never promised to be calm— I certainly never did— but you have your own two feet, and you can brave the storm if you choose to leap. I know "home" is a curse word for your wounded heart, and I never intended to leave a bruising mark; but my leaving never felt like a choice. I was bound before we met and I've become bound to this uncertain fate, where fulfilling one promise leaves another to waste. But love, you've made it this far, I have faith You can carry on. If our lives are noted in rivers or paths, I hope ours cross again; it doesn't feel like we are meant to remain parted. Yet you ask me not to look for you in every passing head; but my soul will still search, do you want that instead? You assume "home" is meant to contain, instead of a safe place to land; you assume my love is bonded to some changeless idea I have. I doubt you will stay unaltered, just as I doubt I will remain unchanged; but things grow with love, making them adjust, evolve. Is it wrong to think we are not the same? From the bottom of my heart, Someone thinking only in love -Talia