It's been months since I last corresponded to you. Many have inevitably transpired since then. Surely time enrages life like a storm. Too swift yet leaving many trails behind. Say for example what happened to my vocation, my profession. I can honestly say I am a better, more professional nurse but in the same fold the experience I have acquired falls too short of what I need for better career opportunities. I have said once that time has a propensity to make a fool out of all of us. And I am proven right yet again this time around.
Let me just say that the months that followed after my last letter were great ones. Man, I met loads of interesting people - which I hope would be lasting friendships. There were days of absolute mirth and of course to balance this light load with encumbrances, there were also days of intimacy with my humanity. I hope in my next letters some of these people I met would figure in my stories.
As my brain ratchets with ideas on what to tell you first, I always end up with one thought. I am so near yet so far. Near enough to prove my worth and doing to the fullest what I think I was born to do but still far from consummating the satisfaction and fulfillment of knowing that I already have the sense of my future within my grasps. I always get the feeling that out of my passion to surge and not be left behind I end up tarrying long and hard enough to waste my alacrity and turn it into aversion.
I am getting complicated again. And I must admit, these complications are not the ones life pokes or jostles us with. This is all my doing. But with this admission comes the faith that I shall overcome this. That confidence brought about by shame. I have lost so many battles, but I never lost a war.
Yours most dearly,