To My Dearest

(He wrote me a letter and gave it to me a year later on my birthday with this scribbled on the back)
Happy Birthday Deena!
Clearly I can't write without guidelines. Each moment will never come again, be sure every single one is worth remembering! Love you always! The world is blessed having you around!
Love,
King

Dear Deena,
I hope you've had a very Merry Christmas and a really happy New Year. I'm sitting on my verandah in Amalfi, on the south coast of Italy overlooking thousands of miles of ocean between us. The sun is setting for the sky to be set ablaze in fireworks to remind me that its Christmas eve.
This trip has been amazing, like a dream. Except around here, the splendour that is this side of the world is just known as, "La Dolce Vita," "La Belle Vie," it's "the life", "C'est la Vie." In whatever language you like it means the same thing. It means, falling asleep in London, and waking up in Rome, it's dreaming under a Parisian skyline and waking up in a Venetian fairytale, it's "the beautiful life." It's everything my wildest dream could hardly embellish.
I hope you've really enjoyed your trips and have many stories to tell. The sun has set entirely with a horizon of glimmering glimpses of heaven to dream under. Rest assured I've thought of you everyday, and missed you more than you could imagine. I love to dream, for when I dream I can be wherever I want. Be it France, Italy, Spain, England or whatever else the world could offer, no matter where my dreams can take me... I just want to be with you.
Love,
King

(The one I wrote when I was 15 but never had the guts to give him)
Dear Kingy,
My letter can't be romanticised like yours nor can I describe the shores of Italy as I am in a dirty countryside of Taiwan at the moment.
The thought of you leaving before my 16th birthday to go to Japan leaves me a little sadness. The fact you won't be here with me and I won't be there with you is upsetting because really, having spent over two years and a lot of my spare time with you it seems tradition. But its always the summer holidays that break it, isn't it?

I don't think I've ever told you that you seriously mean a lot to me. I wouldn't be the Deena I am today. You've baby fed me and suffered through my tears, moods and euphoria. The huge support you've held for me has been so significant in holding my sanity because there has been many moments when I thought I couldn't get through it but you proved my thoughts wrong every time.

I can't say you've been a great brother to me because you've been more than that. I don't really want to tell you how I see you in my life. Maybe not for many more years. Yesterday, a quiet, young boy I barely knew broke down crying to me and it made me realise that I've had an abundant amount of friends, great friends in my life and out of all, I would say you have zestfully and endlessly been there for me.

King, as corny as it is I can't imagine my life without you. I really hope you will stay in my life or at least keep me in your thoughts as you hit the lights of Hollywood. I have a lot of respect, love, faith and hope for you. Know that I will always be here for you even if we're skies apart, like we are now.

Anywhere, anytime, I will always be your Deena.

(He wrote this in a page of my book)
Dear Deena,
I could see you in every part of the world that I could call beautiful. I can see the stars in the twinkle of your eyes, or your hair dance across a summer breeze. I can feel all the warmth in the world when I hold you, and all love to bear in your smile. I can see you in every sunset, every endless shores (Noosa), every star and everything I call beautiful. Because you mean everything to me. To think, the whole world fits in my arms.

Forever and ever,
King

(The letter I wrote last night as 19 year old melancholic Deena)
King -
I flew 900 miles to be at home with you today and I'd fly even further towards the clouds to come find you but that voyage may take a long or short while for me. Please be patient, my dear.

I promised you many things. Most importantly to you, a reply to your amorous letters. Since I was 16, I had one for you in a book locked away by fear and diffidence. You asked every year for it on your birthday and I persisted to hide cowardly. Its time I learned from your passionate, lionhearted soul.

King, look at how many freckles there are in the sky tonight!
Do you ever wonder how they burn so brightly? Or if light years away they've already died yet time hasn't been long enough for them to let us know they've faded? I ponder that every time I stare at one too long.

I remember we'd sneak through your window and crawl out onto the cold navy roof tiles of your home. No grime or dust would bother me at that moment - for I would lie down with my arms outstretched like angel wings and legs out to brace against gravity. I'd only have two things on my mind, the earth's ceiling above me and you perched next to me. Then we'd talk, for hours on end. We'd talk until the sun rose or fell.

Under the blankets of poison ivy encased around my stubborn heart, lies my endearment for you and our memories. Your unparalleled acts of romance has filled me with enough love for years. Thus, I've had no need to let anyone else in as deep.

So what am I meant to do now, King? Will I live lovelessly? Will I turn even more cold hearted? Are you happy? Are you out of pain? Would you watch over me?

I'll live you through my life with La Valse d'Amelie playing in my mind.

Wait for me.