Dear, Big Island:
Thank you for awakening the dormant, adventurous, self-proclaimed island princess that's been dying to get out and prove to the world was real and not just part of some schizophrenic fantasy. (No one believed I was like a demi-monarch. Peasants, go figure). I ran with horses, danced between a goddess and her enemy, traveled the wilderness and dropped my phone in your crystalline waters. I'll never be able to wash the plumerias out my hair along with this enveloping spirit you've left behind. Nor will I want to. Papaya flavored kisses from Los Angeles xx.
Respectfully Yours, Ahelili.
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