This is a letter to a stranger.
You can call me Love. I was born in a small town called L. I used to think that my town was so big. I could get lost easily. I was scared to go out, even in the afternoon, because once, a goat was chasing me. Don’t laugh, it still hurts my small pride. When I was about 10, I could ride a bicycle. My mom said I could ride it only near my house. But I was curious to see other places.
You know what they said “A curiosity killed a cat”? I was a cat. I roam around my neighborhood, searching for unusual places, looking for unfamiliar faces, asking for secret locations. I can’t stop, I can not be stopped. Even when I had no friend to share on this adventure, I said to myself, “I will find my friend on the way there”.
I believe that life is not about the destination, it’s the journey itself. How one step can make me to take another step and lead me to nowhere. I know where to go, but I don’t know what I would find on my way there, who do I meet when I ask for directions and should I trust them or my should I follow my instinct?
If you ask me “Love, what are you trying to say?” then my answer is “This is what I’ve been doing for the last couple of years in my life.” I played around, I went to unfamiliar places, looking for stranger faces and enjoying the things I’ve had, I’ve seen. I can not wait to tell you this. I wanted to share all of these stories, all of my journey.
I know you are my destination, but it would take some time to get me there.
Can I call you Wait?