March 21, 2009

My dearest,

I had missed the dawn. My day started early and it would end very late. The researchers, the doctors and the dominatrices and the dons, they were not an easy audience and I must entertain and educate them. We were cloistered up in an enormous and enormously chilly ballroom in one of the prettiest resorts in Sabah but nary a bit of that natural beauty would we spy given our impossibly packed schedule.

Yet it would be madness to miss this magic.

We had an hour or less to freshen up and have dinner before the evening sessions began. I escaped and ran out to the beach. The sand, the sea and the dying sun. The slow breeze slipping through my hair, the grit between my toes. The horizon, a pair of friends (lovers?) walk toward each other.

As the clouds close in, one final brilliant burst of light breaks over them before night takes over. I pray that their hands would find each other, fingers encircling, as mine would over yours. Some day we shall walk this paradise together from dusk till dawn all the way till ever after.

Yours, ever and always.