“Also He has put eternity in their hearts…”
I’m not exactly sure how to say this. Maybe there is no easy way. No, please don’t interrupt. I guess I just need to come out with it: darling…we’re through, it’s over. The time has come for us to say goodbye. It isn’t working out, and I need to move on. I know at times it seemed like there was some hope for us. For a little while I thought we could work things out. But we can’t. And there is no use in pretending any more.
Yes, it really is over. Of course you knew this was coming. Don’t pretend you didn’t see it. We’ve been drifting apart for months now. I know you felt it too. In fact, our relationship was doomed from the start. It was never going to work out. We were…well…incompatible. What? You thought I would change? But don’t you see; that is just the problem. I was always changing, and you never were. I need to keep changing too. This, I hope, is just the beginning. You, however, will always be the same: cold, still, lifeless. This relationship has been a bit like prison for me, and I just need to escape.
So if you are looking for some closure, here it is. I am writing this letter to say goodbye. You will not hear from me again. What was done; was done. What was said; was said. We can’t change that. We can’t go back. There is really no sense in going on about it. I really need to move on with my life. Please don’t take this personally. It is really more about me than about you. What? Yes, I do recall the good times. We had some laughs for sure. But the fact is that you and I were always moving in opposite directions.
And, well, I have a confession too. You see…there is someone else. No, it’s not 2011. Sure she is full of mystery and intrigue, a bit younger too. There is always that measure of excitement that comes with the uncertainty of a new year. But that’s not it. It’s…well…Eternity has taken hold of my heart. That’s right; I’m trading you in for an older model! I simply cannot settle for weeks and months and years any longer. Not since the change. I need more than moments. All days leave me somewhat dreary. The four Seasons are now a sort of stockade to my soul. Why settle for carpé diem when I can carpé aeternitatem instead?
I must be going now. No hard feelings? The fact is that, regretfully, you will never be short of suitors. Hundreds give you their hearts every day. Thousands trade away eternity in exchange for the fragile trinkets of time. Their lives are scribbled away in their schedules. Days and weeks are their gods and goddesses. They are children of Cronus. The calendar is their creed. Today is all they have. Like fools we run our fingers through the sand while immortality is offered to our souls. Like drowning men we clutch for the frayed rope of days and hours. All the while the Everlasting Arms are stretching out ready to embrace us. Reader, you have been invited to the Feast of Forever. Stop trying to satisfy your soul with the crumbs which fall from the Table of Time. Hear Him who is both Beginning and End, and who says to us: “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.”