Although the mountain and the city were snowy not too long ago, it's gotten much warmer recently and almost all of the snow has become water. It's been flowing down into the river and then into the ocean, or else just flowing down to the ocean. Normally I wouldn't think much of this, only delight in the fact that I don't need to bundle up whenever I'm out of doors in my threadbare remnant of a dress, but there is also a sad implication. My birthday is in the winter, but if it's no longer winter, it must be past my birthday. I must be twelve.
What does a twelve-year-old do? Is it different than what an eleven-year-old does? Should I dress differently? Should I learn to speak more eloquently? Should I become betrothed? It's difficult because I don't sense anything intrinsically different about myself. I'm not even one hundred percent certain that I'm twelve. If only I had you to explain everything to me!
I'm also disappointed that I missed the opportunity to throw a party. I know you would have invited important people and introduced them to me. I haven't even gone to the parties of the important people I already know in quite some time! I really wish that you were here to sort out my life. I sometimes think it's losing its shape and running out of my hands like melting snow.
Love always,
Your Shaqad
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