i've thought long and hard about what to write in this message. i still don't know what i'm going to say--i'm just mindlessly typing, letting words spill out on their own. perhaps half of this will be rewritten and the other half erased.
i've read your writing, and i've fallen in love with it, and along the way i may have fallen in love with your persona as well. i refuse to believe that the words of a writer do not reflect the inner workings of his or her heart. in a way, i fell in love with every post you made on tumblr and on livejournal, and perhaps you may view this as a superficial, surface type of love, but to me it means something much deeper.
i was foolish, and i've always viewed tumblr as a static place of safety--as a part of my world that will never change. little did i know, people leave, just like they do in real life.
i remember you've told me once, by offhand comment, not to jump out of windows until i've learned to fly. you may not even remember this.
learning to fly is much too hard for a fragile person like i. you always say, icarus smiled when he fell, and perhaps i'm smiling now, as i fall.
i want to thank you for inspiring me, for showing me what great writing is, and perhaps you will call me silly, for viewing your words as great writing, but i've always prided myself in being able to distinguish great literature from good.
my views were never completely align with the norm, and perhaps your writing isn't great. but in my world, it will always be amazing, perfect, immaculate, just like black ink splatters against pristine white paper.
sometimes you remind me of a cloudy day. the fog shields the earth from sunlight, because the sun's rays are much too bright and blinding for humans to behold.
i've tried to express my gratitude in various ways. i've sent asks to your inbox, asking if you've had a great day, or "thing" (that was a regretful typo), some on anon and some as myself.
today, i looked forward to sending you another ask, especially since i had a very interesting physics lesson. finally, we've begun learning about electrons and protons and neutrons, and i was giddy, perhaps because i remembered your beautiful story. elementary, was it? elementary charge? i don't quite remember; i've always had a terrible memory for important things, and a perfect one for the trivial.
my teacher told us that all of us are made from stars--that's why we're held together. that made me so happy. i'm not quite sure why, and i remembered reading a poem about how all of us are made of stardust.
i just wanted to tell you that though all of us are made of stardust, you are a supernova.
and perhaps i'm romanticizing you too much--i tend to do that. but i live in a world of perhaps and of make-believes and of stars i try not to stray too close to because i'd much rather view their radiance from afar, where i wouldn't get hurt.
despite seeing your post about taking a break from tumblr, i don't think i ever expected that you'd really leave, that you'd clean out your blog and your livejournal and leave us with remnants of scattered memories of a beautiful you. but perhaps that's better, because as i've said, stars look much beautiful far away, than up close.
however, i'm always seeking for someone to contradict my views, to prove me wrong, and i'm waiting for the day you return.
ahh yes, i remember the title now. elementary particles. have i ever told you your writing reminds me of haruki murakami's? perhaps i was planning to today.
goodbye, els. the world dims a bit when you're gone.
