January 26, 2010
To my Amore,
Every single time that my heart longs for you, only the ink and paper can know about it. I've always been thankful that even though I can't draw your face, my hand can still picture you through our memories. This was you're doing after all. If you did not believe that my written words can have power and soul, I would be dumbfounded all my life. You are my very first fan. My very first critic and editor. You've let me become the man I've never thought I would be. As if destinty played so well in our lives both in a good and a bad way. Your beautiful soul continues to linger in my works. And I'm grateful that your my one and only muse.
But among all those nights that I miss you, this is the night that I miss you the most. My mind starts to have a problem like a cassette tape. It plays the wrong memories at the wrong time and erases my most important ones. I don't want that to happen so I long for you to meet me now. I don't want to forget you in my last breathe. My memories of you helped me to get through my longest and toughest nights. Forgetting you will be my greatest heartbreak. It will be much better for me to die if that moment will come. And I know that even if my mind will forget you, my heart will continue to find you through deepest part of my soul. You've been and will always be my most prized possession.
My time wandering through this lifetime was tiring but awesome because of you. Thank you for always giving me the best gifts I could ever have. You gave me inspiration, love, goals, and most especially a daughter who looks like you- Madeleine.
She grew beautiful and independent just like you. She also likes the things that you like as well. She dances, sings and writes. She was a true born artist. She was bubbly and sweet as well. And always loyal to the people she loves. I sometimes wonder if I was really the one who raised her up or was it you? Seeing her grow like you makes me feel that the heavens answered my long prayers before for you. It's like they were atoning to the pain they've caused us. Do I sound crazy to you? I want to tell you more about this my Amore.
I have great hopes for her and I still want to see them. I want her to have someone before I left but I can't do anything about it. I am so sorry my love. But I don't want to burden her my Amore. So I want to come with you now. Will that be alright?
I'm tired and in pain right now. Will you get me now? I miss you like crazy. I don't want to waste any of my remaining time here if I will just forget you.
Loving you forever,
Chris
I closed the first letter I've drawn from the small mahogany box our butler gave me. We've just bid my father goodbye a while ago. We scattered his ashes in the nearby beach we owned. When he was still alive, he always stay there to write or spend time alone. I believe that was his favorite place. My heart still aches because he left us. And now, he was giving me a bunch of letters to his "Amore". A woman I've never met my whole life. He said that he got me in an orphanage, so why does this letter tells me a different story? Why does this letter gives me the feeling that I am his real daughter?
It's not that I'm complaining. Papa Daniel was the best gift I got in this life so far. He's been a good father to me. He never let me feel that there was something missing in my life. He filled all the possible empty spaces in my heart. He was the most loving person I know in this world. He always supports me in everything I wanted. But what are these questions that envelop my mind?
I tried to find if there were addresses for the recipient in the envelope but nothing was there. How could I find his "Amore"?
I wiped my tears away and paused for a moment. I looked myself in the mirror and then to the letters inside that mahogany box.
Will the letters lead me to you, Mother? Or will the letters lead me to more than that? Will I learned more about my father more than before?
"Papa, help me," that's all I said and cried myself to sleep. Hoping that the next morning will give me more courage to face whatever secrets those letters have.