Marie's #2: On Fate

Dear Pierre,

I doubt that this Marie can win the Nobel Prize unless they start giving one for slacking off, so first of all Pierre I really want to apologize for disappearing, but I’m here now so let me tell you about this word that I’ve always admired and then I somehow ended up ignoring for some years but now I can’t help but think of it for so long.

The word is “Fate” and I believe that you can only believe in fate.

As I look back to the twelve years old me who, whenever something unexpected happened, would smile and think that "if it happened then it’s fated and if it’s fated we’ll see what’s going to come out of it" and then flash-forward to some few years ago when I stopped believing in it, maybe it was because I thought I didn’t deserve such good things and maybe because I couldn’t see the certain part of it which I know now obviously doesn’t exist; so as I sit at this very moment facing my laptop while the rain is knocking on my window like it usually does on every confusing September sounding like it’s trying to tell me something that I can’t really get, I cross all of my mind and a blindfolded man appears in my imagination; he seems to be walking down a road he’s never seen before yet he moves so comfortably believing that as long as this is his road it will eventually lead him to a place that’s definitely his, but if he decides to take the blindfold off he’ll find that the whole road ahead is actually dark, he’ll get confused, he’ll look back and take turns and get all filled up with anxiety and maybe eventually get lost.

My Dear Pierre, I decided that I’m going to believe in this image from now on and also in myself hoping we’ll end up somewhere that is ours.

With All my love and support and strong belief,

Marie.

Pierre's #4: City Night Lights

Dear Marie,

Since I was a young boy, whenever we went to my grandparents house, I used to imagine things so differently from now. Every house and building in their neighborhood seemed like it had an amazing story to tell.

As we would arrive, we'd follow the long road paved with trees to the last block on the left.

There were wide balcony-like spaces that separated between buildings. I would always stay down there during the day and look at the whole city far behind the block, and it felt like I was on top of it all.

But the most amazing view I've known, was that same view, up from my grandparents house's balcony on the second floor, at night.

I don't know if I was too amazed because I was a young boy who hadn't seen much, and I haven't seen it in so long, but I used to stay up at night and wait for everyone to fall asleep just to open the balcony door, stand there watching the far city night lights and feeling a the constant sweet breeze flowing by.

I used to savor every moment there, sometimes I even had dreams of that view. I still do, rarely.

And all of this makes me think of the small things that can make a person happy, that could make a couple happy.

You can hardly find people who take some moments to see some of the beauty that is all around us, instead of constantly running after fame and fortune; a man who's having trouble with his wife can simply bring her flowers or a nice dinner and spend a day off talking deeply to her, discussing what life is; a worker who's having trouble covering expenses and feeling like his life is crashing down can take an hour to look at the stars and contemplate the fact that the universe is too big and too amazing for him to be frustrated; a girl who thinks that her adolescence problems are a big deal can work a day in charity to see how other people live and how huge the world is for her to stay in her selfish self-destructive cocoon...

A lot can happen to a person, enough to make them forget what they had planned in the first place, to make them forget what they believe in.

Life shouldn't be that hard, and it isn't unless we make it.

Because after all, despite of all the crap we face and all the constraints and punches we get, one hug can obliterate that.

I hope we never forget to look at the small things every now and then.

Yours,

Pierre.