My dear,

I will let you go. But only on one condition.

Go with all your being… your soul.

March forward, head held high, arrogantly so. For I would rather that than a head held down… unsure. Stride forward. Run!

And don’t look back. For if you do I will know that you left half your heart behind.

And half a heart never concludes the journey.

Falsely yours,
Confucius