So I decided to start writing letters, to anyone...

Sometimes Susan, Roselin, or Erie writes but most of the time, it's Fida. mail

Saturday 14 July 2012

Letter from Erie

Dear You,

It's raining.
It's not heavy rain nor it's light, it's the type of rain that you would enjoy standing under. It's the type of rain that you wish it never stops. It feels like someone pouring the water from above tenderly. It's the type of rain that I love. I guess, you should know.

It's Saturday, 14th July 2012, 5.30 PM and raining.
I'm here sitting in my study table with a warm cup of yorkshire tea next to me and John Mayer's Born and Raised album is playing from my itunes. You're out there; in the big city chasing your dream, carving achievements and flying away. And I'm here trying to write few words from you so you won't forget.

You know, I prefer morning rain rather than afternoon or night rain. Especially, Monday morning rain. I love waking up to the sound of rain and knowing that I can extend my sleep for some minuets before I start my routine. Knowing that I can use rain as an excuse for being late, knowing that I can smell the wet ground right after the rain stops. And I get that sort of feeling of being able to reunite my dream and reality with eyes open. I don't know why I'm telling you this but rain always reminds me of you especially Monday morning rain. That happiness I feel everytime I find out it's raining on Monday is the same feeling that I feel when I find out that I can still smell your scent right after we've just met. But you're gone way too long and too far now, your fragrance is no longer here.

I'm scared that I will slowly forget your fragrance and getting used to with your absence. I'm scared that we will be different to one and another and act like total strangers, I'm scared that I have to burry my memories with you. So I beg you to comeback, to at least stay for one day and leave your scent here with me so I won't forget, so this fears just evaporate to sky; creating clouds, forming rain and when it pours, I can snuggle under the blanket and extend my sleep or sitting like this; sipping yorkshire tea and remembering you.

I miss you.

Love,
Erie.



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