Secret 1

My dearest,

By the time you found this letter, I am gone for good, probably thousands of miles away.

Please forgive me for parting like this.  This is the best way to mark the end of our story with smiles and good memory.

With my fingers, I felt you, every sentimental moment.

With my lips, I felt you, every inch of your skin.

Your wrinkles deepen along with my forgetfulness and affection.

And yet I can't ever promise you anything nor can I make the commitment that you wanted me to make.

Though my memory fades away, bit by bit, I need you to remember me, remember our long walk along the lakeshore.

Once you let go of something, it'd never come back.

Such as time, youth and intimacy in relationships.

Trust and affection may be weighty, so does commitment, particularly for people of their words.

Call me selfish, yet it is the last thing in the world that I would see you frown on me, upon seeing the sickness-ridden frailty that I am becoming.

I bid you farewell, the love and light of my life.

There was not even a name.

The note silently sat there on page 47, where I found a slight trace of a puddle that left the page crinkled and faded.

I flipped to the front page.  There was nothing.

On the rim of the inner leaf, there was this upper case script written J.  That left me a hunch that the previous owner was a female.

It was not like I was not familiar with some cliché Asian drama that depicted the main protagonists suffer from incurable disease.

I guess I was just surprised to find that such scenario really happened and crosspathed with my life.
M walked close to see what I was reading.  I folded the letter swiftly and slipped it in other pages.  Two years later, I am not sure I am ready to return to where I was and be with those I am expected to be with.
For now, it is my intention to keep a safe distance from everyone.