An Unsent Letter

By Hussain Kachwala

Days pass by as I try and jot down a few unique words once in a while, about  feelings that are derived from within a common experience which seem to fade  away to ashes as I rise anew, a better being. 

Years have passed since the incident occurred, however the picture of you  within my mind remains unburnt, as if it is immune to every lashing, it evades  my destruction and spreads into aether, becoming the only thing I can see for  hours on end. 

Within these years however, I have not remained a mad lover who blindly  follows infatuation as his guiding light. 

I have thought, and I have pondered. I have seen frustration, and I have wept.  But most importantly, I have understood. 

I have understood the fact that the image I hold so close to me isn't of you. The  image is a product of the pure, unbridled affection we shared for the few days  when we would actually bother ourselves with happiness, and to just be  together. 

Once the facade blew off, and the cards came crashing down like walls of  Jericho, I tried. I tried associating you with every evil imaginable. I picked out  every flaw, every detail that could bring you down, but in the end, I failed. I  could not bring myself to hate you. 

I could not hate you, not because I still carry emotion for you, but for the same  reason I wanted you in to begin with. The prize of unconditional love.

I cannot bring myself to hate you, for you are as real to my life as who you  appeared to be. 

And if God has set me on my truest path, you will fade too, in due time. 

Perhaps I know better now to not trust the tree based on the fruit it bears, but  rather the soil in which it grows. 

So, I bid you adieu, and I hope you find the tree your roots love, as I go on the  search for my own.

By Hussain Kachwala