Always, Makoto
Nephrite,
I have shied from writing this letter too many times. The realization that
you would perhaps laugh and toss it aside brought too much pain to my heart. I
force myself to be bold as I swirl ink upon this page. I have buried this sorrow
for too long; I need you to know my thoughts, my emotions; even if you merely cast
this aside, I need to know, at least, that for one last time I tried to reach you.
No reason exists that states I should still grieve for you. You are my
enemy, my foe. You fought my comrades and I to the death with undying hate. You
swore your allegiance to the one who could destroy all that we fight for. In
reality I should curse you; I should hate you in return. With all my power and
fury I should avenge the loss of my heart. But I cannot bring myself to that
conclusion no matter how firey the anger burns within me or how cold the tears
stain my face. For even after the passing of millennia I have not forgotten the
whispered words, the glances, the velvet embraces. I have not forgotten the way
you used to be.
I still think with longing of our days during the height of the Moon
Kingdom. Still I can remember the nervous joy on your face when first we conversed.
You brought so much happiness to my world, so much light. You were everything that
a perfect suitor should be; everything that I could have endeavored to hope for.
Then I thought our blossoming love could last an eternity. Our scarlet passions
lay like fog wherever we went. I can still smell the shy lilies; I can still taste
the rose wine. I became drunk, hopelessly at a loss of senses, on our love. I could
have layed in your arms until the silver stars fell from their heavenly out-posts.
I wanted to be with you always; to be your lover and your soulmate.
But happiness, no matter how well framed by perfection, fades, and
treasured hearts become lost.
You took your leave of me.
I cannot begin to describe my thoughts or actions when I learned of your
betrayal--betrayal, it's such a cruel, unforgiving word. I felt angered, cheated,
as if I had been awoken from a glorious dream too soon. Feeling stupid and enraged
I locked myself inside my heart, encasing my emotions in steel. Those were, and
still are, my blackest hours. The days I learned the dark sides of love.
Armed with my rage I sought revenge. I wanted you to hurt as badly as I
had. I took up a shield of ignorance and a spear of fury and marched tearfully to
our first and final war. But the pain flooded my soul upon seeing you again. I
could not forget the passionate love we shared, no matter how far you had strayed
from me. I matched your powerful blows with a stinging heart. I cried, Nephrite,
when I fought you that last time. I prayed furiously for your surrender, for your
return, a return that would never come. Through the night I fought, until the
cruelty of war consumed me.
That tragic end of my first life left in me a wound that will never heal.
I failed you, Nephrite, for I could not save you.
Even through the years, I have never stopped loving you. You were my one,
my love. There lies in my soul an emptiness in which only you will fit. With that
emptiness filled I will be whole, at rest. Your love completes me.
Love always,
Makoto
Nephrite,
I have shied from writing this letter too many times. The realization that
you would perhaps laugh and toss it aside brought too much pain to my heart. I
force myself to be bold as I swirl ink upon this page. I have buried this sorrow
for too long; I need you to know my thoughts, my emotions; even if you merely cast
this aside, I need to know, at least, that for one last time I tried to reach you.
No reason exists that states I should still grieve for you. You are my
enemy, my foe. You fought my comrades and I to the death with undying hate. You
swore your allegiance to the one who could destroy all that we fight for. In
reality I should curse you; I should hate you in return. With all my power and
fury I should avenge the loss of my heart. But I cannot bring myself to that
conclusion no matter how firey the anger burns within me or how cold the tears
stain my face. For even after the passing of millennia I have not forgotten the
whispered words, the glances, the velvet embraces. I have not forgotten the way
you used to be.
I still think with longing of our days during the height of the Moon
Kingdom. Still I can remember the nervous joy on your face when first we conversed.
You brought so much happiness to my world, so much light. You were everything that
a perfect suitor should be; everything that I could have endeavored to hope for.
Then I thought our blossoming love could last an eternity. Our scarlet passions
lay like fog wherever we went. I can still smell the shy lilies; I can still taste
the rose wine. I became drunk, hopelessly at a loss of senses, on our love. I could
have layed in your arms until the silver stars fell from their heavenly out-posts.
I wanted to be with you always; to be your lover and your soulmate.
But happiness, no matter how well framed by perfection, fades, and
treasured hearts become lost.
You took your leave of me.
I cannot begin to describe my thoughts or actions when I learned of your
betrayal--betrayal, it's such a cruel, unforgiving word. I felt angered, cheated,
as if I had been awoken from a glorious dream too soon. Feeling stupid and enraged
I locked myself inside my heart, encasing my emotions in steel. Those were, and
still are, my blackest hours. The days I learned the dark sides of love.
Armed with my rage I sought revenge. I wanted you to hurt as badly as I
had. I took up a shield of ignorance and a spear of fury and marched tearfully to
our first and final war. But the pain flooded my soul upon seeing you again. I
could not forget the passionate love we shared, no matter how far you had strayed
from me. I matched your powerful blows with a stinging heart. I cried, Nephrite,
when I fought you that last time. I prayed furiously for your surrender, for your
return, a return that would never come. Through the night I fought, until the
cruelty of war consumed me.
That tragic end of my first life left in me a wound that will never heal.
I failed you, Nephrite, for I could not save you.
Even through the years, I have never stopped loving you. You were my one,
my love. There lies in my soul an emptiness in which only you will fit. With that
emptiness filled I will be whole, at rest. Your love completes me.
Love always,
Makoto
