O dear, will I ever be at fault for writing from the heart? I pray not.
A loving heart is all I want to have, if I had to choose of all the world's splendor.
I want you to know the feelings I have inside. I hope my writing can make you realize, for what good is a feeling if one can't express it as is - real and beautiful. It is indeed a gift of our Lord for you and me. So, how can one ever be sorry for it? I am not. And don't you ever be.
A loving heart is all I want to have, if I had to choose of all the world's splendor.
I want you to know the feelings I have inside. I hope my writing can make you realize, for what good is a feeling if one can't express it as is - real and beautiful. It is indeed a gift of our Lord for you and me. So, how can one ever be sorry for it? I am not. And don't you ever be.
Tonight, as if it were morning, I woke up from my dreams one hour past midnight. I read some of the wonderful words written by loving souls of by-gone times.
Each and every love letter ought to be special. That's simply because love is great. You and I need not be a great woman or man to be writing a priceless intangible commodity as is love. Anyone is free to have love. But I say it has a price. It has a high price given that it's only there if the Owner of Love sprinkles even a spark from the infinite ocean of His Love, His Rahmah.
As I try, this very moment, to look for the right word to choose next, I realize, it is more than enough that there is love between us. Our Prophet says, rich is he/she who is contented with what is at hand. I am sufficed. I know, you are too.
I browsed the two lovely books and saw how some beautiful words had been chosen to end a letter that was written with love. How should I end this then, O dear? I wonder what would become of us if we did not pray so that He lets us have plenty of love in our hearts, forever and a day.
With all the love there is and will ever be.
Yours,
E
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