Letter to the sender

And begins the eighth episode of the second season of my life.  I turned 28 years old.

I have been thinking of time, seeking to understand the emotions and reasons that have shaped my journey. Within the echoes of lived stories, I encounter memories of an intensity that defied destiny itself. I behold tears that flowed like rivers, bearing witness to pains that seemed never-ending. 

How much time have we let slip away without granting proper attention to our delicate hearts? It whispers desires often silenced by the fear of making mistakes, by the hesitation to unveil the vulnerability resting within us. 

Let’s imagine, for a moment, if God gifted us only tomorrow to experience what has remained unexplored until now. Would we allow ourselves to feel the uncharted tides of emotion? What would be the essence of our final prayer? 

Pain, no matter how deep, has its season, its moment of fading away. And within the void it leaves, life finds room to bloom, to transform into something beyond the ordinary. 

More than just a simple reason to breathe, I yearn to discover a genuine cause for which it’s worth sacrificing everything. May my journey be the meticulously constructed prologue to what will eventually become my epilogue. May every breath taken, and every challenge faced not be in vain, but rather the foundation of a narrative that inspires others to find meaning in each moment. 

And if, indeed, the last tomorrow was to draw near, where would our love reside? Would we find solace in having loved completely, in having embraced the journey with boundless passion? 

Thus, I aspire to live each day as someone who comprehends the fleeting nature of life, as one who holds the knowledge of an imminent end. And when the time comes, I wish to depart from this world as someone who hasn’t merely existed, but who has also truly understood, with deep certainty, what it means to authentically live.