A letter from my ever evolving self

My dearest Irla,

As time weaves its threads of remembrance, may they recall you thus: the girl with the bangs framing her soul’s vista, the scarlet red lips, and nails painted in passion's hue of deep red, vibrant echoes of passion’s kiss. Even in the summer's swelter, you stride in black boots, a symbol of your steadfast resolve. But in another realm, amidst fields of flowers, you shed the weight of leather jackets and boots, basking barefoot under the sun's tender caress; shedding the armor, leather's embrace replaced. There, you sing your own song, a melody of liberation and joy and just your skin feeling the grasses. Remember, amidst the ebb and flow of memory, your essence remains unchanged. Hold onto the moments of authenticity, where you dance freely in nature's embrace, unencumbered by expectations or constraints; but with a heart that’s ever luminous and… your bangs unchanged.

With love and solidarity,
Your ever-evolving self