The Last Letter

Dear ibhog,

I decided that instead of writing to you, I’ll just try my heart out to be present in your soul. I know you appreciate the flower of silence, and I shall pluck it from my chest and gift it to you.

I just like you to know that many people love you, Ibrahim. How much you believe in that doesn’t matter, because their love is so pure it just is, like the sky is blue. They love you for you, not for what you do in return. I promise you, that when life hides them all from your reach, I’ll stand alone at the end, and wait, like I’ve always done with you.

Maybe you’ll notice me then, when your glance lingers into that waterfall far look of yours.

Until then, I’ll just retreat into the idea of me, waiting for the home of us, somewhere in the future that’s the subconscious of this universe. I will save my tears until I’m in your arms.

If we never meet though, then I hope you cry them for me.

Thank you for you.

I love you.

Yours forever, ibhog.

Yours forever,



9 thoughts on “The Last Letter

  1. I am sorry I made you sad. That was.. very unintended..

    Maybe I’ll write again soon in that theme, isA.

    I hope you are well :)

  2. Imprinted in my memory in association with N. is melancholy. She doesn’t seem to have this spring in her step. Even if she does, this is not what I am left with. I know many liked her, and you too, I think, are so proud of her, but for me I preferred reading the direct ibhogs rather than the letters from N.

  3. Interesting.

    Melancholy and the scarcity of springs in her steps define an essential part of my own character. One reason why I sometimes successfully mirror the female psyche is that I actually have it. Whether I ‘like’ it or am ‘proud’ of it, is a completely different story. It is beyond the governance of my will in those aspects; it is me.

    Some might say this twisted kind of development in my persona could be attributed to the loss of my mother or to the existence of three sisters in my life, but I could never know for sure. What I know is, sometimes I relate to women in such depth it actually aches me, while some other times they are just.. outrageously foreign to my senses.

    I know all men have a feminine side, but I think in my case it is overdeveloped, or something.

    You did take the words out of my mouth. Thank you.

  4. Can you keep a secret? *I think the first thought that hit me as I read The Last Letter was “Well, maybe with N.’s departure, he will be set free.”* Shhhhh!

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