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I am now growing in years, and have- since the last time we talked, understood that your childhood in the many times that I have been an adult: you were intelligent, and your brilliance was always questioned by your hesitation to trust your instincts. 

You were ambitious of signalling your abdication of the literary sceptre in the days of your adolescence to unbecoming the impetuous lover of a young girl who shared your interest and passion for an infamous television show. I wish you had traced her lips with soft kisses, and sweet nothings. Alas, cowardice gripped the best of you.

In my first attempts at this composition, I found you a drawback of everything I wish my younger self would have been. But your splendour more enlightened than dazzled me. Chivalrous. Handsome. Fragile. Your world may have spun madly on in times of emotional loss but your frailty never overtook your strength and composure.

Naturally, at my current age, I find my thirsts and itches oddly embraced by the rest of the world. From the rubbish conceptions that held you captive in your shell, the many sleepless labour nights behind books that were meant to lead you down a more scientific future.

Dear dream crusher, you have a liberal heart, living outside the boxes of life and parental desires. You should have said what you mean to all the young girls you had affection for, and not deodorize it behind words that were meant to seduce and satiate.

Dear me of a past unknown to the many people who currently surround me, I miss you, and I miss us. I miss the solitude and the adventurer in you. You used to explore and discover things that fill you with joy. If you were looking at me now, you’d ask me what happened, and I would remind you of all the things you whispered into the wind when you were 9.

I would, in turn, wrap my arms around you and be proud of who you were- flaws and all. As it is well known that the “wise men” of the Messiah’s time came from the East, and as your father hailed from the East, it follows that you, dear friend of a past unknown to many, is a wise man; and if there has ever been a need for collateral proof, here you have it.

As I retire this letter, I want you to know that you have matured into a more handsome cinematic director and writer, who is proud of his younger years. Live on. And be yourself. Time tells tales. In the meantime, young gentleman live on the broad margin of the Proverbs of the once and only King Solomon- Kwame Ebbs

By Kwame Ebbs

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