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Dear August,

The spotlight of clarity.

I am not sure why I remember at the end of the summer, what I should consider during the transition from spring to summer. A few springs ago, my heart shattered and remoulded into a different shape.

I learnt in that time of my own naivety in thinking I had truly mourned anything before then. I learnt just how much I love my family when I so desperately wanted to share their burdens but I could not. And so my heart wept on the sidelines of their lives.

August for whatever reasons, my heart weeps with your arrival. The end of the summer is the end of my own childish selfishness. My own naive beliefs that my life was of superior import to everything else around me. My own cocooned inexperience with tragedy jolted me back to the truth of the matter.

We hold on to the wrong things for too long and let go of the most precious things too soon. Because precious things are meant to be held firmly, with both hands and handled with care. All that is left, we should let go.

But for me, the catharsis comes later. In August I stop and remember to hold on. With you, I remember to cherish.

Until next time,



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