An atonement to Mr. Liber




Dearest,  


I know it’s been eons since I last sat down for a cup of tea and a conversation. You haven’t blamed me, you understood even though my excuses were unacceptable, and I knew that I’ve immensely hurt you with the neglection throughout the past years.

I passed by you yesterday when I was looking for company, for a friend. You were there with all your authentic glory, standing among others in an aura of honour and wisdom. I miss you, I admit, I miss you beyond the league of my comprehension. You were there from the moment I opened my eyes on the world, you guided me through, and when I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders at timesyou were there to pick up the pieces and I will subconsciously forever be grateful for your efforts to help an adrift girl.

I’ve failed you though, by returning your acts of graceful kindness with abandonment. I left you forlorn at the first opportunity I got, and went along with the crowd, even if I once vowed not to. I left you to time to take its toll on you. You aged, my old friend. Specks of dust covered you and yellowed your pages, forever staining your etched words, but giving you a sense of belonging to the historic relics. 

I’ve loved you when you were new and vibrant. You slowly yet surely made your way to my heart and I, being the fool I am, ignored all what we once had. You were the reason I started pursuing my dreams. You implanted the seeds of love inside of me, and it’s because of you, I was introduced to true passion. You were a constant companion when others weren’t welcomed. You familiarised me with the beauty of words and the irresistible pull they have on my soul. 


I was attracted to you like moth to the light. Every day was a day adventurously lived. I was in Rome one day, and the next roaming the streets of Central London. Then in the eveninghaving dinner with you in Paris overlooking the Eiffel tower.  You travelled through centuries with me falling into your footsteps. I’ve met Austen, Shakespeare, Dickens, Wells, the Brontë’s, Woolfe, and myriads of other legends. I’ve lived as numerous characters who often made me forget who I really am. I’ve loved, cried, have been hurt, was broken and then repaired to live it all over again. You were always there, ready to pick me up and start the process of carving more passion into my soul, yet again, I’ve failed you.







I was obsessed with you, and I still am, just detached now. I used to go around feeling your cover pages and touching the words ever so delicately with my finger-tips, afraid that I’d hurt you in a way or another. Your scent was beautifully intoxicating. It lured me in to your aura and sent off a familiar hue that warmed up my insides. I used to stare at you for hours, trying to memorise every single tiny detail that made you up, and I never failed to do so. However, I chose them over you when the time came. I promised not to forget about you, but I did at that time.

It’s been ages since I last held you and enjoyed your warm embrace. I felt the coldness of the screen intently staring at me in a glaring manner. They didn’t send that fuzzy feeling all over my body. The words were volatile, instantly disappearing before my memory could catch a glimpse of them. I’ve favoured them for a while now, but I miss you beyond sanity. 

I passed by you yesterday when I was looking for company, for a friend. You were there with all your precious effulgence, standing among your peers in an aura of humility and wisdom, trying to grasp my attention for a decent while now, but I was too blind to see the treasure that rested before my very own eyes. So, I vowed again, only this time, one I’m promising to keep. 

I vowed not to leave you till you age, you deserve a loving person who will guard you from the dusty sheet layer. I might for sure not be able to rely on you every time I need to, but you will always be my number one priority. I will cherish and respect the stories you spent myriads of nights harbouring into my little developing brain as a child, and I promise to implant the same seeds of infatuation into my children through you. 

Forever your loving friend before reader,

Your once adrift girl.

Popular posts from this blog

The Holocaust Resurrection

What if?

Mea sola vetus amicus