Adrift

You don't need caffeine to keep you awake when you have anxiety and uncertainity pushing your thoughts to the edge of sanity. You need hope and comfort to put you to sleep. You need faith to have one night's peaceful rest. You need to know your compromise will lead to something of pride, something of contentment if not happiness. You need to know you're alive.
There are so many sensations my mind rejects often now. The need to touch you, the impulse to feel your skin against mine is almost natural. I'm almost afraid to say I've never felt it, almost afraid to see my own name on the tombstone before the opportunity to mourn- or maybe just too afraid to confront herself. How do I say that there is nothing to confront in the first place. Perhaps I am just the ghost that I thought I almost saw from the corner of my eye when I was all by myself. Dead. Dead other than the ghosts of the memories that meander inside and out almost every other night. How do I say I have no narrative to this very-essential chapter of life without sounding like an echo or looking like a shadow? To look in the mirror and see no reflections of your own touchable, tangible body but only the circling, buzzing wisps of words flounder around you, the words you exchanged today or yesterday or want to say tomorrow and maybe even publish some day, only the smoke that comes from the fire of purpose; the purpose that lights up your conscience every morning and turns every carnal need, every desire of the flesh to ash.
 If to want touch you is to live, then I was never anything more than an apparition. Perhaps I am a projection of your thoughts, and if I confess to you, I'm afraid I'll read out my own obituary.

Every atom of her being shouts, "Live!"

Dear O,
I wanted to write this letter to you months before but couldn't find the-- to hell with the excuses. Today I finally found the courage to put pen to paper.
At first I wouldn't have chosen to mention your name openly here. But then I put you first, before this letter. I decided this letter should bear your complete name, declaring to the world out loud, 'O is this friend. O is the one this letter is about' and there was absolutely nothing I did not want to tell the world about you. I want this letter to be like you- brave, sincere, unafraid.
A part of this letter will be a product of sheer selfishness but I hope you don't blame me. It is because you have enriched my life to this extent that I am compelled to speak about you, on you, to you.
You bring joy. You bring hope. I don't think I have known anyone as extraordinary as you, ever: Someone who is as frank about the vulnerabilities that come with being human, as she is ready to enjoy the moments of happiness. Most importantly, someone who is as unassuming and brave in the face of the consequences of those vulnerabilities, as she is in the face of all the good our lives have to offer.
When we receive good news, it is natural for us to want to tell it to possibly everyone we know, flash it on every public platform and tell the whole world. I think you have come to occupy this important place in my life because you are there in the tough times with me as much as you there in the good ones. In speaking to you, I find the strength to show the wounds, share the bad news, the little complaints we bring with us more often than the good news, the guilt, the gray areas we are afraid to confess for the fear of being labelled as the vile ones. I find it because I know you will know the meaning behind every word I say. I find this strength because I see you face the same and deal with the same with the spirit of a hero and the smile of a princess. The winner's smile. The winning smile.
I am often forced to compare the people in my life to some image, create some metaphor or symbol, a place for them in my mind. O, when I think of you I don't see any image other than a strong, bright, shining light. Not the kind that's too strong too look at, or makes the eyes water. It's the kind that calms the eyes, gives a sense of complacence to the mind and sends warmth to the heart. I will not attempt to paint a perfect picture of you. You are full of flaws. But I never want you to be without them. If you ever were, this light would lose it's warmth. Don't you see, you are perfect because you are flawed? You are flawed and you completely fit my definition of perfection.
O, you make me want to be brave. You make me want to laugh at things I seethed at before. You made me see things I have never seen. You made me see that to carry on, we must be able to laugh, at a time in my life that had very little room for humour. Most importantly, you made me realise, that to laugh is to hope. You made me realise laughter is the greatest form of generosity- a means of only giving, sharing and never taking away from another, a means of forgiving, of moving on and in return gifting to  your own self a piece of the happiness we all so desire.
It's funny how so far in this letter I haven't felt the need to mention once how we have never met face-to-face; how we have never physically met but talk to each other as if we have known each other for years on end. I think remaining friends with you is a lesson in the power of words. Just words. Isn't it only words and our voices that got us this far? With someone like you, words can never be a handicap. I think on your birthday, this letter full of words is only apt as a testament to the power of words in our friendship
 O, in my opinion, this freedom, this ease and trust is the greatest gift any human being can give to another. It is the gift you have given to me. So even though on this birthday I would prefer to give you something more tangible(because yes as much as people matter, material matters to our existence too and does hold a considerable value), I hope some day I can give back something to you that is equal in worth to what you have given to me. I hope someday I can be to you what you have been to so many.

My warmest wishes, selfless and sincerest thoughts with you always, no matter what part of the world you are in, or how many years later you read this.
(I would totally catch a plane to Lahore right now.)
Happy Birthday!
From
Cocoa.