I came home tonight and I was struck by the mysteries of the world. A small letter containing an even smaller envelope awaited me, to my surprise. I broke the seal and unwrapped it and within was a sack. These sacks are special and from my homeland, for want of a better word, they are talisman that attest to my rootedness: Japan. I had no idea this was on the way to me or even it had been sent - or existed - in time conceived with me as recipient. The scribbling on the creased paper read (in English hand)
For what I could understand this one is for happiness and dreams to come true. My best wishes from Kagoshima, among ashes and best ramen and onsen
The sender is someone in the past I had shared a great deal with some would fathom call it love. The recipient I am not sure, is someone I’d like to think I knew very well, that is myself, but at times like these I am left shaken. Shaken by the trepidation in the world I inhabit. Shaken by the lack of knowledge; the doubt. Who knew he was in Japan. Who knew he would think of me. I didn’t know he had my home address. But what it means is something of grand design of teleological virtue. I could not stand on a precipice and feel more the purpose of history.
For forever I had felt the unworthiness of this cause, of never saying sorry because I fucked up royally and you deserved better. Forever I had felt unforgiven. But tonight after a joyous event and drinks and singing I return home to this crumpled envelope and I see his handwriting and I read the note, I feel everything settle on me like a heavy blanket. It is unforeseen and that is what drives it home. The mystery. The thanks that I want to give to the wind and the tides that seek a home so far away from any shore, I feel like a pebble resting on a bank after attrition and journeys I cannot remember. Thank you Whoever You Are looking out for us seemingly abandoned souls. We really appreciate you angels.