It’s eight o’clock in this chilly evening. Even with the windows closed, my room feels like a frozen hell. The red flickers dancing in the fireplace seems to be offering respite from the winter storm but failed. The wind outside was howling like you do when you’re angry except that you’re not howling. Only gnashing your teeth. (See, even the wind reminds me of you.) When I woke up today at six in the morning, I was certain that I’ll spend the rest of the day in this solid bed with a cup of strong coffee, a warm blanket, and a Twain-book in hand but then I remembered that today your mail may arrive. So my certainty was ruined because of you. With my small feet, I scurried to the mail box in my blue nightwear and the risk I took was not wasted. (Did I just heard you smirk?)
I read and re-read your letter. The first time, reading your idiomatic message. The second time, agreeing with your opinions and at the same time disagreeing with them. And the third time, adoring every words and finding you in them.
And I see, you wanted to know why I am so punctilious when it comes to my affection. And why I chose you, out of all the sly foxes out there. Well, I can always resist my feelings but I am absolute that it will do you no good. Am I right? Well, let me tell you a story and I hope you find answers to your inquisitions.
In this seemingly vast universe, there was this woman who created her own world. For centuries, astronomers and philosophers wondered how her solar system and its planets came to be. They have seen the end result of the planet formation. They have looked at the general image she represented. They perceived the iceberg afloat her waters which is only 10% of the whole of its size. Even with the knowledge gained about her solar system, they were left to wonder, are there other planetary systems out there, and did they form like hers?
For years, they have studied the mysteries of her world, but they have only gone as far as reason would take them. But what they didn’t know is that sometimes reason cannot even explain itself. And there are things which even reason cannot comprehend.
But there was this average occupant. Not an astronomer, or a philosopher. Just an unexceptional inhabitant. This occupant did not only look at the end result, but at the process of formation itself. Instead of accepting the common image, he studied the particular details that made her world. Even though he knew that he cannot possibly determine the depth of the iceberg, he goes beyond the 10% of what is observable and explore what’s underneath the surface. He wondered and still is wondering about her world but he was sure of one thing–That no other planetary systems out there form like hers.
He has studied the mysteries of her world by going beyond reason. There were times when he scratched his head, crossed his eyebrows, and gnashed his teeth because he was unable to fathom her world. The woman once asked him why he never gave up and he gave her the answer she never knew she’d hear. Because for him, she is the mystery he would never be able to fully understand, but will love to live with.
That’s the story. Did I answer your question? I hope I do. Did you notice that I never answered your last letter about man and woman’s equality? I’m feeling generous today to not argue with you about that matter. But in my next letter, I will. Be patient, my dear. Now, I’ll leave my pen in this wooden table because darling, my hands are numb from the cold. I just wanna lie in bed and hear your sweet lullabies through your fancy words. Goodnight my uninvited occupant.