To my dear beloved

Dear Beloved,

I am afraid that this will never get written, that I will never reach back to you across time and space to tell you the things that I did not know.

I have grown into a woman who is reasonable and averse to risk and doubts her own creativity. I have been telling myself that I am writing back to you as a cautionary tale, for you were altogether too wild and wonderful.

But I have just this moment realised that it is I who is seeking you and your romantic, brave soul to ignite in me that which is too far buried to find its way out.

The truth is we would do well to find one another. I know you know things that I have long forgotten and need now to unearth. You are not a cautionary tale. You are the receptacle of dreams. Now is the time for unpacking. Nothing is ever lost. To find you is act like accessing the Akashic Library, in some small measure. Plans for this lifetime agreed upon before conception are waiting now to be brought forth.

You, me, at 18, at that place and time of leaving childhood behind holds some key. I want to write down your journey to this time now, twice your age, to see the pattern that emerges. For I knwo there is one and that the information I seek I already have.

We have lived so much and there is so much more to do - but all the pieces need to be remembered and then the next step can begin. It is a revelation this day to know I am not seeking you to keep you safe but so that you may awaken in me the fire of my memories.