Dear Titan,

I have dreamt of you for so long. From across the abyss of space, you shimmer like liquid gold, a celestial body wrapped in mystery, draped in the soft glow of nostalgia. You are the promise of something greater, a world beyond my own, untouched, waiting. You have lived in the quiet corners of my imagination, whispering of endless possibilities.

But dreams, like light through thick clouds, bend and blur. And you, Titan, are not what you seem. Beneath your golden haze, there is no warmth. Beneath your lakes, there is no life I understand. What looks like a second Earth is an illusion. A reflection on frozen seas, a mirage built of methane and distance.

Isn’t it cruel, how we fall for the unreachable? How we chase illusions painted in gold, believing they will feel like home? We long for what we cannot touch, convinced that if we could only reach it, we would be whole. But illusions are never meant to be held. They dissolve the moment we step too close.

Yet, knowing this, I cannot look away.

Perhaps that is the nature of dreams. To captivate, to deceive, to call us toward places we may never truly belong. But what a tragedy it would be to live a life never chasing them at all.

So here I am, Titan. Watching you. Wanting you. Knowing you are an illusion, and loving you still.

Yours from across the stars,

A Dreamer.