Our Promises in the Air

It's been a while since we’ve spoken, my dear one. I’m sorry for leaving so long. I’m recalling the promises I made to you, and you to me, as we held our hands over an intertwined heartbeat.

One, I assured you we would be great someday. Our names written among the stars. I’m still working on getting there, but I promise the future is ours.

Two, you promised you wouldn’t flee from the calamity of your mind. That promise has been hard to keep, I know, but you always managed to keep it even when you fell.

Three, I swore not to lose track of our dreams. I happily continue them all for you. Each day I write, each day I sing to the hearts of friendly virtues.

Four, you pledged to seek light in the darkness. Even now you do. As the planet burns, and our faith dwindles, you find a beacon within you.

Five, I said I wouldn’t leave your side which, regrettably, I failed to do. I forgot and I’m sorry. I moved on from you.

But six, you vowed not to stray away, and now I cannot find you. The photos of smiles and freckled skin are all that tie me to your memory.

Let me add a magical seven to our list of six: I promise to remember in gratitude and light our time together. With this, I swear with one hand held over the other.

If you receive this note in the air, tell me you remember - that time we put hand to hand through the glass of our bedroom mirror.