May 17, 2007Reading. Wondering. Tortured by what is written and what doesn't appear on the pages of these letters and in Gaia's journal.
I clutched Gaia's last letter to my chest but I was tiring from the effort. I knew that this collection would bring me closer to her, but when would it bring her to me?
I rose from the bed and stepped toward the balcony of my room. The sea seemed infinite and eternal, in a way that my love for Gaia did. It was the same scene that I had shared with Gaia, the same glittering waves, the same bright sun, the same white noise of beachgoers romping by water's edge.
Even the aromas were the same. The narcotic fragrance of tarragon, basil, and rosemary, flowers and fresh lemons all blended into a symphony of edible senses. The smell of grilled meat and steamed
