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Beloved, I'm introspective today. I'm looking at the map reviewing the first few days of this journey. I have a confession to make. On our last night, before my departure, I placed a specially designed container by your nostrils and filled it with your deep sleep breath. I feel guilty for not mentioning anything before but I was concerned you might reject my attempt as you rejected my request to let me have a hologram of you to carry along in my bag. You said it would make me too soft and mushy, and you wouldn't want to take on your shoulders the possibility of causing distraction, thus exposing me to danger. In the first few "nights" (night = when the sunset/sunrise sky shifts into a deeper orange hue), I sniffed very little of your breath. I didn't need more than that because your air was still all around me. But days passed and as events took place and their winds pushed away yours, my inhalations grew deeper and deeper, longer and longer. I'm writing you this first letter, beloved, as the meter on the container points at almost zero. I might have a breath, luckily, two left. From then on the only thing that remains is the image of you in my head. And that scares me. Moreover, I realized that in the last few hours I've started conversing with this image of yours. And then it dawned on me that by the time I return, hopefully with what I came out here to find—a lost treasure, the YOU in my head will be far removed from the YOU I'm going meet. See—the image of you that I imagine and conversed with, will alter as I will, throughout this journey. I can see no way around it. That's when I realized the importance of sending you these letters, even though you can not respond. Through these short scribbles, I hope you'll be able to understand what's happening to your image in my head and when you feel it has become too removed from the source, make sure you cut all attachments because, I am afraid, beloved, that this will signify that I have gone too far. And that scares me. Yours forever
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