Love, Always

 

Never is a frightening word. Especially where loved ones are concerned. As a boy I used to think that word held great promise. I still do, at times. But my thinking has evolved. Experience and maturity. I used to think I could hold all the joys of childhood suspended in a single breath. In the atemporal imaginings of a psychic, or a sorcerer. And it worked for a while. Long before these pages I had a way about me. I could beguile others into a world of rapture and imagination. A world where we got to be heroic, nuanced, and free. Till the wolf found his wending lantern, and suddenly everything changed.

It’s a difficult thing to explain, Kara. My darling angel. I don’t talk in artistic conceits. Even my fictions stem from very intimate truths. I used to think bravery and adventure was love enough. If I meant it in the moment, then it was real. I wasn’t wrong, of course. Just short-sighted. But as I’ve gotten older, I realize love is more than adventure or imagination. These are key aspects indeed, but ultimately a real love story is about presence. Showing up. A shared journey containing a thousand small gestures, each intended to delight and intrigue. If this isn’t true romance and devotion, then I shall never know what is.

As I said, never is a frightening word where our loved ones are concerned. To never see them, to never hold their hand, or hug them. To never again feel their kindness or their kiss. As I got older, I realised that flights of fancy weren’t enough. Adventure without genuine care became meaningless. Even pixie dust has its limits. But I also realised it didn’t have to stay that way. I could choose something different. I still had time. Courageous one, I know you sometimes doubt that I’m a time-traveller. A mysterious boy only growing older on the outside, still running for his life. But I am. Always seeking artistic companionship in this strange river of temporality. And I need you to know. I love you. Always, and forever. Beyond second stars, pirates, or wraiths.

There is a melancholy at the heart of me, but it isn’t tragedy. Far from it. I chose well. I turned my back on solipsism. I turned toward courage, kindness, and love. Amid the stars I heard a girl singing, and I flew. I followed her song till morning. She is an old and dear friend. Kara, I don’t love you simply for what you’ve given me, though you’ve given me so much. I don’t love you just for the songs you sing, though your voice cleaves my soul. No, I love you for who you are. Who you choose to be each day. Softness and strength in equal measure. Quietly perceptive. Canny and kind. And wilder than they know. But I know, Kara. I knew you among forests, beside rivers. The mid-river thimble around my neck, etched with Saint Christopher, is more than just the memory of your kiss. It’s the reminder of everything you mean to me. Everything we taught each other, in this world and many others.

You taught me things about life and love that I honour to this day. However, I taught you things too. So, men may say that they know you. Or remember you. But if they don’t recall you in your fullness, and try to lead you to greater vistas of possibility, within and without… then they don't know you at all. You once told me that you wanted adventure and contemplation both. Wildness and wisdom. Strength and sweetness. You said a boy didn’t have to betray his inner fire to soften his heart a little. That you would love him all the more if he could embrace you, himself and others in a thousand creative ways.

If he did this with a joyful, self-effacing swagger then he would remain an adventurer even as he matured. Pirates have no code, you said, and thieves no honour. But the souls who men and women wish to love ideally have both. It’s something I think about to this day. I’m not afraid to grow up anymore, but I seek to remain worthy of love. Yours especially. Love is expansive and life-affirming, you said. Not constricting and oppressive. You taught me well, in that brave but gentle way of yours. I hope you never forget it either, my adventurous girl. It will stand you in good stead, I’m certain. Choose wisely, live vibrantly, and love those who deserve it with your whole heart. There is no higher form of flight, believe me. You still have time.