Dear Love,
I have just boarded. Strapped in. Waiting. I’m trying not to think about how far I am going or if I will be back. These uncertainties shiver me. It is strange to be so alone suddenly. Somewhat restful, but very strange. I feel my thoughts begin to wander, my heart seems to be pumping more furiously than usual, my hands gripping the rests. I’m trying not to think about how far I am going. It’s funny how little I believe that this is happening. I’m trying not to wonder if I will be back. To wander. To wander is my task. Oh, love, I miss you here.
Dear Love,
The initial flight tasks are completed, all is well. I must go to sleep now. I will be further from you when I eventually awake, far further. I will be so much closer to my destination. Close and far together, a somehow poetic antithesis. I must go to sleep now. I know I will not dream, but if I did I would dream of you, oh love.
Dear Love,
Awake. Confused. How long have I slept? Feels eternity. Feel light, soft, floating. Zero. Stiff. Light. Gravity has left me floating. Floating. Feels like infinity. Out of the window, infinity. Strange sounds. Beeps and blips saying all is well. All is well. Much to do. Too heavy; too light. How long have I slept?
Dear Love,
I am on the approach. There’s a new nausea in my throat that has little to do with movement. I have wandered far, wandered wide. I wonder what you are doing? Are you thinking of me? Do you even know where I am? I have come so far. So very, very far away. The mind flips at such distance. I slept so long even I cannot comprehend the immensity. Oh, love, I miss you here. You would hold my hand and tell me there was no need to worry. You would tell me the landing will be soft, safe, that the very air would not buck at my presence in this strange land. You would remind me of the birth of the world, the wonder of new grass, new air, new land. You would hold me. I have wandered far, but you whisper in my ear. I approach.
Dear Lover,
The landing was soft, safe. The air did not buck at my presence, though I wonder if it should have. The ground is soft, there is grass. The air is not so different from the air you must be breathing. The light is strange, but not as strange as I had thought. I feel very small in this endless land. As my feet touched this new ground, I felt the weight of air, of time, the gasp of fear. You would drink these vistas in. You would gasp with me, explore the strange. I have many things to do, so very far from home, so very far from you. Oh, lover, how I miss your arms.
Dear Lover,
How long has it been? The days are different here, the nights harder. There are things I never expected, the air is beginning to hurt my chest. Perhaps it is the breaking of a fragile heart, the closing of an alien lung. I’m losing track, wandering further and further. I feel the distance, the uncrossable space, today more than ever. Oh, lover, where are you? Where are you to whisper that all will be well? A soft landing does not imply a soft stay. I think the air has begun to buck at my presence.
Oh, You,
I have started to forget the contours of your neck. Your voice has faded utterly. I have not spoken aloud since I have been here. I do not even know whether the air here would let me. I am too afraid to try. How long has it been? What are these strange nights? The sky is so alien. I wonder if one of the lights is you, or if we even see the same lights in the sky? The sky is so alien. My tasks progress, but I am beginning to question the wisdom of sending me alone. I understand the theory, it was the best possible solution. But was it wise?
Oh, You,
Such beauty today! Such awe! I could forget the pain in my chest for a while. I think I may have gasped aloud. That gasp hurt my throat. There are things here you would not imagine, things I cannot describe. They fit so well, such a perfect ecosystem. It is so clear that I am the alien here. Oh, you. If you were here we would drink in all this awe, take over this wild land. We would build here, and grow here and make here. We would break here, and destroy here, and kill here. All that beauty – I wonder what we would do to it. I have wandered so far, and I think it may be best to keep this beauty far.
Dear Stranger,
How long has it been now? I can no longer reckon time here, in this strange land. I know I am the stranger here. I am too strange. The air has begun to push me out. I am getting weaker but my imagination stronger. I have completed my assigned tasks. The soil is caught, the air captured, the life preserved in tiny jars. Why was I left so alone? Today I packed the final samples, wrapped and swaddled them like the most precious of children. Each drop of liquid, each grain of soil, each molecule of air is in its place. Packed and ready. As I stare at the ship that will bring me back, at the world hidden in its guts, I shiver. The air here does not want me, does not want us. We have ripped the guts out of each other, we have grown so close; me and this strange land intertwined, connected by blood and flesh and guts and spit. One more night. One more strange sky, and I shall leave it all behind, bring this strange land’s guts and blood and sweat and spit back with me.
Dear Stranger,
Dawn. The night is over. I should board, should start the engine. Should begin the endless journey back. I should leave this strange and awful land and come back. I know I am the stranger here, I know I am alien beyond reckoning, i know I should come home. I shall board, I shall sleep, I shall wake confused, I shall land to cheers, I shall fall into the arms of a stranger, I shall spill the guts of a far and alien land, I shall lay that land open. I shall help to dissect it, to excise it, to remove the mystery and the awe. I shall make the land safe and homely, I shall set the plough to it. I shall kill, and break, and destroy it. Oh, Stranger, what would you do? Would you board, start, journey? Would you stay, and wander further, allowing the air to crush your lungs and steal your heart? Would you leave those back home to wonder? Oh, Stranger, what should I do?
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