let me go

Dear Stranger,

Hello,

 As you have found this letter I feel entitled to give an explanation about it. I'm writing this letter at a point in my life where I really need to empty my head, then only will I be able to take the step that I'm about to. Actually, I wanted to send this letter to the cosmic but I needed a quick delivery so I request you to be my unknown cosmic or throw it away, no pressure.

Here's something that I would like to ask you assuming that you must have had moments in your journey where you had to part ways with someone. It must have been hard as there are no easy goodbyes. And now that I'm standing at a place after which there is no returning, all I could wonder is that: Is it a loss if you have decided to break the threads? Or is loss only entitled to those who hold on beyond the bounds of circumstances?

All my life I have been learning that nobody has the right to make a decision for someone else only to stumble upon a situation where I'm responsible for making the biggest decision of someone's life. Do you know, it's really hard to keep track of time when you are waiting for a miracle, the weeks and days all blend together. I hope you never have to go through that. Time is a lengthy unit that always feels a little less. We go through the whole life and then wish for just one more day.

Honestly, it's not even the decision making that I'm dreading nor what will come next, but what I'm dreading is myself. I am unsure of how much strength do I have left, will this be the blow that would finally take my breath away? Sadly, there is no meter for the human that could announce, "low battery! Would you like to save the energy for emergencies?" and we can go and get recharged. 

My husband would have mocked me about writing this letter. He would have called me a dreamy person for asking questions that you have no way of answering, but then again that's the whole reason why I'm writing them to you.  I wish he would have mocked me. 

Well then stranger, let me part my ways with you as a rehearsal. 

Thank you,

Goodbye.

I folded the letter in a plane and sent it on a flight from the terrace of the hospital with hope in my heart for it to reach the right person.

And at the moment that I dreaded the most, I held the hands that I had promised to never let go, about 57 years ago. I apologised for sending him first and promised that I will follow him let it be in a day or in a couple of years. 

"You did well. You really did well. Now, allow me to hold all those responsibilities and sleep well... see ya,"