The ocean, vast and tumultuous, reminded Stacey of everything that separated him from Anneliese. The plight was like Saint Exupéry walking across the desert. It was James Ramsay trying to get to the lighthouse. It seemed so close, yet such an immense distance to cover.

It has been too easy letting distance form a chasm between our souls. Like digging a hole in the sand, the walls crumble in no time at all. I don’t want our separation to be the nature of things. I want us to transcend the gap in distance.

It’s still hard to live in a foreign country with unfamiliar people, even when you’re with the person you love. I don’t have any roots or history of my own here. A person needs their history around them to remember who they were and to remind them of where they’re going. I’m worried about leaving my history and memories behind me.

Love feels like this fog. It slinks in from some hidden place and silently overtakes me. It seems so dense, but when I reach into it, there’s nothing of substance. Then, before too long, it simply vanishes. That’s my perception of love.

He began to dread the passing of time because the moment of departure was unyielding and would advance until it snatched away the people he loved. He felt that time was an assassin that couldn’t be stopped.

Romance is an illusionDeceiving present lifeWith future love

Now that you have been touched by death, you’re going to feel its presence all around you. You’re going to realize your own mortality, and that death can happen at any time to anyone. It’s going to scare you to your core. It did me.

I would love to think that the essence of who we are continues after we die. Maybe our soul moves on somehow, and eventually we are reborn. Or maybe, we get absorbed into god like a drop of water into the ocean.I think it’s more believable than floating into the sky and entering heaven. I’ve looked up and I’ve never seen heaven the way religions describe it. But, I can tell you that I’ve looked around down here, and I’ve found many places that have appeared as if they could be heaven.

Weather is cyclical. It’s falling and then rising. It’s movement. Swaying, drifting, and swirling. It’s power. Gravity, evaporation, and erosion. It’s a potpourri of human emotion. Happiness, sadness, elation, and disappointment.

I feel as if I’m about to go on an extraordinary journey, Stacey thought. This is a trip into my soul. If I’m going to keep Anneliese in love with me while we’re apart, then I need to make her feel that my heart still beats with hers. I have to make our love stronger than the gap that divides us. My written words must become my soul that she holds when she reads the letter.