Always, omi

Part11

09/17/20

Dear Atsumu,

I got woken up by another headache. I drank my meds but I can't sleep right away. I am writing this letter on the balcony, wearing your sweater. It's around 2A.M. right now, and I'm still amazed at how active the city still is. I'm rarely alone with my thoughts with you always there to talk, but in certain moments like this, I would look at alleys and roads and wonder how many times I had crossed them, walked there.

I have grown more sentimental, I noticed, as I recalled the days at the hospital. I hope you don't make fun of me when you read this. Although, I don't think I'm prepared to let you read these letters soon. Maybe years from now when we're all old. We'll read these letters and remember together.

On another note, your birthday is fast approaching and I'm planning something big for it. You said you wanted to surprise me with the setting, that I don't have to prepare for anything. I made you believe I would oblige and do nothing, but actually, I am going to propose to you. For the second time.

In the months I've gotten to know you all over again, I have learned to love you just the same, if not more. You never let me forget. You were around when I didn't know even my name. You were there to guide me all the way as I became a new person. You are so patient and selfless. I am so thankful to have you as my other half.

The other night, we made love. And I couldn't have felt more in love with you in that moment, when the moonlight from the window illuminated your face. I found myself as such a lucky man to have someone like you love someone like me. Before we went to sleep after that, you whispered softly in my ear: "Can we just stay like this forever?" When I turned to look at you, you were crying. I told you we had a whole lifetime ahead of us, and it was unusual to see you cry so hard but smile through it all.

In my previous letters, I told you that when I finally recover, I wanted us to get married. A part of me hopes that the right time would come soon, but I don't want to feed on the unsure. The headaches still occur. I think they won't stop until I get recover my memories. I hope they won't get in the way of my proposal on your birthday.

Marriage is my next goal for us, so I hope you will wait. With our engagement ring on your finger, of course. Because I know you are sure of me just as I am sure of you. I love you so much, Atsumu.

I actually have to go sleep now because you're calling out my name with your groggy voice. I'm coming, Atsumu.

Always,

Omi

P.S. I almost forgot I was in charge of cooking breakfast in the morning.