Dear M. I. O,
I hope this meets you in good health. Who am I kidding, it'll never come close to meeting you but I'll write and while at it, pretend you're reading this.
I'll make this brief. I know I left with no traces. I am a living ghost. They see me yet are blinded to my existence. You my chouchou I've over time become one of 'Them'. This doesn't bother me one bit, if for anything, I love it. The invincibility comes with a warm cold peace. The pindrop silence all around me makes it easy to hear you coming. I know you'll come and that's why I'm still waiting. It's been two years, my mind is tired but my heart is strong and waiting.
I am guessing you've learnt some basic French now. I laugh out aloud sometimes when I imagine you saying words like: j'ai faim, je suis fatigué and saying je t'aime to me. Take care of you and don't over work yourself.


Love,
Chouchou