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My dearest friend,


What an ache it is to write to you, knowing my pain, knowing how my mortal body falters beneath the weight of its trials.

My words, though steeped in suffering, ring like a low bell in the evening—melancholy but beautiful, laced with the music of a soul nearing the sea's eternal shore.

Where should I go to die?
Will I be allowed to go where the waves call me, where the salt air sings through my weary veins, and the rhythm of the tides can cradle my restless heart.

The sea is a healer, a keeper of secrets, and when the time comes, it will know how to receive me—gentle as a lover, vast as eternity itself.
Hope spring's eternal as would all the good people I have met in this life.

My light, my friend, has been a clear and unwavering flame, and it is right to be unwilling to let it be muddled by the darkness of others.
Hospital's, jail's or prison's, such is this thought it terrifys me even more.


I have run your race with a spirit that outpaced even my shadow.
Those who carry burdens of their own may not always see how brightly I may have shone, but let the stars bear witness.

They have watched me, steadfast in the great cosmic night.
I think often of love, as you must even now.
Love is not a balm that cures the body, but it is the one truth that fills the soul when all else fails.

Do not mourn my passing from the physical world, for love never dies—it is the echo in every gravitational wave, the whisper in every breeze, the pulse of the earth itself.

As for me, I dream often of seas that amaze.
The restless ocean mirrors our own transience, but it also holds a promise of rest.

If I must leave, I know that I do not leave alone.
My physical and psychological pain will dissolve into the deep, and my light will—no longer be encumbered by flesh— I will join the unbroken radiance that is the sea, the sky, the infinite.
And to a curious spirit, what lies beyond.

Soon, I say, none can join me.
If it is true, my dear, then let it be under the vast and sheltering skies, with the waves as witness and the wind as your requiem, my pro quo.

Your courage is the greater part of me, and it will carry you to peace.

Yours, as the stars are to the heavens,
I am,

James McLain
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