Letter to Lochinvar

*This is a work of fiction*

Dear Lochinvar,

The person forever gone will never come back; the likelihood of his comeback is bleak, and one cannot survive on a single ray of hope. It’s frustrating, and yet, one cannot help but cling on to it. Our lives pan out before us in myriad shades and in different elusive hues that flummox us from the very onset. I am, presently, in a state where confusion and conclusiveness of things have taken a decisive and definitive form before me, where both have concretely merged into one, leaving me ignorant about my own state of mental affairs.

I am here, typing this out, while clinging on to that single ray of hope which fails to tell me of his state of mind, and his state of heart. But, I hear the gentle breeze passing by me, that whispers into my ears in its soft, delicate voice, that, my wakefulness has no purpose, like many other purposeless things I have been holding on to; it tells me that my wait is a mere cry into the void of the unknown; it tells me about how his heart isn’t beating in synchronicity with mine, and how he has fallen out of my everlasting love. Those are gentle whispers that otherwise serenade me in the late evenings; but at present, they feel like cold, steely knives, piercing right through my chest, and into my fragile heart, turning the loud beatings of my heart paler with each beat.

The reality has always been a little hard to grasp, and harder to absorb into my living system. The ceaseless war between the sagacious mind and the impulsive heart always tears me apart into two, but, sometimes, one has to make choices in life. It sounds that easy, but only if it was as easy as it sounded. My heart has been exploring innumerable places across heavens in search of him ever since he has gone afar, and although I know the futility of this action in all its practicality, it is still a perpetual search.

It is wrong of me to be still holding on to that ray of hope, to be sitting beside my window and letting my mind wander to faraway places with the hope of finding him, but, there is also a sense of pleasure amidst the pain of wrongdoing. Sometimes, we experience elation amidst disconsolation, and this sinful act is tempting to the heart in, perchance, all the unbecoming way.

Yes, I am stuck in the wheel of past, and I shall continue (until the pain of it makes me numb) allowing my heart and mind to be gypsies in the hope of meeting him someday, maybe, in another life, where we two will never part.

 

~A friend from another realm.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I feel sure I have read poetry about Lochinvar , a famous write but I can't recall who the poet was. These lines however concentrate on his absence and the never giving up on the hope of seeing him again. Much longing and pain revealed here. Well done Ayesha.

Chris

[ayesha cullen]

Yes, there is a poem written by Walter Scott on one young Lochinvar.
And thank you, Christine :)

[Chris Shaw]

That's the one. I remember it now. A very good poem as well.