keitharaprague

[keitharaprague]

To the serene flame that warms the corners of the heart Sloane Addison Clarke,

Though my words come belatedly, I find it impossible to let the days pass unmarked without expressing my profound admiration and heartfelt wishes for you. Within the sprawling canvas of our lives, I hold dear the privilege of sharing this chapter with you.

I vividly recall our very first conversation. The person I met that day and the person you are now are beautifully one and the same. You are perpetually surrounded by affection, not merely because others love you, but because your nature makes you effortlessly lovable. From that moment, I found myself wondering if perhaps, I might have the privilege of being counted among your friends.

When I finally had the chance to grow close to you, it turns out, what I once wondered about, is truly something both thrilling and humbling. Because, being this far into our friendship, I’ve come to see how deeply you care for others. In time, you’ve bestowed upon me a new appreciation for your thoughtful realism. You’ve taught me, time and again, that life is about holding on to those who are willing to stay by your side. 

“Don’t ever settle for the less!” it’s a creed you’ve repeatedly imparted to me.

All those midnight talks and random conversations are what I cherish most about being your friend. And I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling this way. Surrounded by so many good friends, they too must feel the same warmth and positive energy you give freely.

So, here is to you, S. On your special day, I wish you all the best. May every goal you chase come closer to reality, and may every path you take be lined with success. Above all, may the love you so generously offer return to you multiplied beyond measure.

Regarding matters of the heart, I truly hope that Andreas cherishes you as deeply as you deserve, honoring the extraordinary value you bring to any union. May you never be left wanting or doubting in any way.

Thank you for being the extraordinary light in the lives you touch. I am so grateful for you. Today and always.

Once again, merriest belated birthday, Sloane.

Yours devotedly,

Keithara Prague.

[keitharaprague]

To my slow-blooming heartache and joy Rachelle,

I wonder sometimes how the universe, by accident or on purpose, decided to place you in my orbit, and how we ended up this close without either of us really noticing the distance shrinking. Who would’ve thought the girl I barely knew would become the one I can’t go a day without?

One thing I’ve known from the very start, and one thing that’s never changed is that you, whether you’re still the version of you I first met or the one I know by heart now, have always carried yourself with the same kind of sweetness. A little graceful, a little talkactive, the one that always knowing how to hold herself in front of others. That’s how you’ve always appeared to me.

Even this wish comes a little late on the clock, I’m still here to say, from the softest corner of my heart, happiest birthday to you. I’m endlessly glad for how close we’ve become, to hear your laughter, get to witness even the restless parts of you, to listen all the random little stories you collect from sea creatures to the elements of water and from office gossip to the tiniest misfortunes we carry through the week, and to fill a whole screen just to talk about coffee, snacks, and homemade meals. I’m beyond glad to have found myself in the middle of all these little things with you.

To me, Rachelle, you’ve always been the kind of person who remembers the small parts of someone, the parts even they might’ve long forgotten themselves. It’s almost absurd how you can recall how many times I’ve ranted about my annoying boss, or how you keep those scraps of stories, from the heavy ones to the laughably pointless, tucked somewhere in your mind. I love you for it. I love you for that particular shape your heart has taken.

I do believe that you’re going to grow into everything you’ve been working towards. You’ll gather every good thing you’ve been chasing simply because you’ve never been afraid to chase it. And most of all, you’ll be surrounded by the goodness you’ve planted in others, whether you meant to or not.

Let the strawberry have her strawberthday.

You know, I always wish you love.

From me and my imaginary basket of strawberries,

Keithara Prague.

[keitharaprague]

To The Little Soul Who Grew Into You

Somewhere, a long time ago, though not so long that it’s been forgotten, there was a boy with hands too small for the dreams he tried to keep, and pockets that could never seem to carry all the things his heart hoped to understand. I wonder if anyone ever bent down to tell him that one day, he would grow up with a heart so full of love. A love that would feel like the kind of place where someone could rest without feeling they needed to earn it.

If I could sit beside you now, little one, I think you’d tilt your head and wonder how a boy like you became someone like this. Someone so full of stories, of places wandered, of things tasted, of hearts kept close.

Once, you thought nothing in this world could ever beat chocolate. But would it surprise you to know that you grew up loving jukut goreng?

Once, you could spend hours watching your favorite cartoons without a single worry in your head. Turns out, you grew up into someone who watches horror movies and none of it really works on you anymore. 

Truth is, for all the little hobbies that changed along the way, more things stayed the same than you’d probably expect. Little you always loved going out just to hang around, to play, to spend time with people. And here’s the sweet part, you still do. You still love spending hours outside, catching up with friends, hopping from one place to another. You still hang out with your old friends too, your junior high friends, your high school friends, even your college ones. Turns out, some things don’t really change.

What I know in my heart is, if your little self could see you now, I think he’d be proud to know you became someone who works hard.

Oh, little you, I wish I could tell you this sooner.

Somewhere in the pages of the days ahead, in a version of you who’s grown and steadier, you’re going to meet someone. Someone who feels grateful for every little part of who you are. Someone who looks at you and thanks the universe for the way you think, the way you laugh, the way you love, everything about you. You love someone so tenderly, so thoughtfully. You treat her with such kindness. You become her home, the place she can always return to without having to ask if she belongs. You become the answer to all the questions she once whispered to the sky, hoping someone, somewhere, was listening. You love her deeply, and she loves you in return with something deeper. And that someone is me. The one who still, to this day, whispers thank you to the universe just for the simple fact that you are here, that you are you.

I’ve thanked the Nicholas beside me now for how he stays, for how he cares, for his ways of loving more times than I can count. But in all those thank you’s, I nearly forgot the little boy who carried this love through the years just so he could hand it to me.

This is for you, little one.

Thank you for growing, for dreaming, for holding on.

Because of you, he became the kind of man who knows how to love.

And because of him, I get to be loved in ways I never knew I deserved.

The one who’s grateful for both the boy and the man you became,

Keithara Prague.

[keitharaprague]

One Month Later, and Still, Love, Over and Over Again

My Dearest Nicholas,

Still, I remember the day you showed up. The day l opened a door I thought I had bolted shut for a very long time. Back then, I didn’t plan to let anyone in again, maybe not anytime soon, or maybe not easily. But there you are, I don’t know why and how, it happened easily. You, didn’t feel like something I had to decide.

Before you, I thought love was something that would always stay complicated. That it would come and go in extremes, in either too much or not enough. You are the one who made me believe that love can be steady. That it can be whole. That it can feel like gold. And that maybe, all this time, I hadn’t met the right hands to hold it with.

30 days isn’t long by most standards. People might call it the beginning of something. But, what we’ve lived inside these days doesn’t feel small at all. We’ve already learned that love doesn’t only come dressed in joy. Sometimes it comes in misunderstanding and in the hard parts we’d rather skip.

And still, you stayed.

Still, you chose me.

You’ve taught me something I didn’t know l needed to learn, that if love itself is simple, then the pieces that try to break it shouldn’t be bigger than what holds it together. With you, nothing ever has been. Even at our worst, l’ve never once wanted to stop choosing you.

Thank you, Bebe, for all the ways you love me, for every “I love you, Bebe” you say when it’s easy and when it isn’t, for the way you keep space for me in your life, for every mornings with your name on my screen, for every evenings ending in “Good night, Bebe”, for every grateful feeling I had every mid-lunch or mid-laugh knowing fact that I have someone like you, and all.

If I could ask the universe for anything, it wouldn’t be for more than we already are. I won’t ask for forever, or promises, or things too far ahead.

I’ll just ask that I get to stay here, a little longer.

In this love.

In this life where you exist and I get to love you,

over and over again.

Here’s to us, to the first thirty days.

Only if you know, Bebe, I want to keep choosing you. I want to get familiar with all the versions of you, the ones that are tired, unsure, proud, laughing, lost, focused, loving. I want to be there for all of it. Because whatever shape you take on any given day, you’re still the person I want to sit beside when the world doesn’t make any sense.

I love you. I love you. I love you, Bebe.

And pretty sure I’ll keep loving you, all over again... And again... And again.

In this loop, I remain,

Keithara Prague.

[keitharaprague]

To my ever golden Maisy Lou,

Isn’t it strange, how our first conversation felt like sipping tea through a stranger’s cup? Careful, and sweetened with courtesy. And yet here we are, long past the surface. I don’t know when it happened, when your voice became familiar, when your words started feeling like something I wanted to keep. But it did. And I’m so quietly, completely glad.

To me, Maisy, you don’t enter a room loudly, but you warm it. You don’t steal the attention, but you invite it. There’s a light to you that doesn’t beg to be seen, but makes people stay. Even when your sky clouds over and your heart is a little tired, you still choose to show up, you still shine. Still choose to laugh. Still choose to give. And that’s rare, because not everyone can carry storms and still offer sunshine.

On this day, the day that celebrates your being here, I wish everything good to find you without needing a map. I wish love to arrive early, and stay late. I wish your name to be spoken by kind mouths, and your days to be filled with things that don’t drain you just to deserve them. You are worthy of soft mornings, patient people, and loud love. The kind that doesn’t whisper. The kind that wraps around you.

My forever sun-threaded girl, here’s me, hands over heart, whispering thank-you’s to the stars for dropping you into my little orbit. Thank you for being the Wom to my Wom, the Folk to my Flum, the Maisy to my Keithara. And that’s sacred. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to phrase correctly.

With all the love you make easy to give,

Keithara Prague.