Her Last Letter

Remembering

'Dear —,

Do you ever just... think about me? Because I think about you. A lot. I think of the times where you'd make me laugh so hard that my abdomen was sore for the next hour. I even think of the times when we'd get in fights and how I would run to you after 5 minutes because I hated being upset with each other. I really miss those days.

I miss them so much that when I return home to —, I pretend to look around at everything, but in reality I'm just looking for you. My eyes yearn for your silver dyed hair and your vibrant turquoise eyes. My ears crave the sound of your voice, especially when you laugh. Is that weird? Probably.

But nowadays, I spend my days trying to get over it. Trying to get over how we ended things. The last thing you said to me was, "I broke my rules for you." Which shockingly hurts more than just a simple, "I don't love you anymore" or "This is the end." It feels like you felt disappointed in us. Not us as a relationship but us as in you for loving me and me for letting you down. I don't know why we fell apart but I do recall how complicated we were. But despite how complicated things got, I still wanted you. I still do.

Though it has been years, I still hurt when I hear your name. Your name was something that I cherished. I embraced being able to call you mine and being yours. God, I remember the first time you called me that. We were with your friends and you guys were all playing catch with a football. Apparently you thought I was left out and sad but in reality I was too busy admiring how attractive you were, but you passed me the ball and I somehow caught it perfectly. Your eyes lit up and the smallest smile grew on your face. Your eyes stared at me like how a teacher stares at their student, realizing that I understood what you taught me. I tossed the ball back to you and you said it was better than half the guys on the high school football team, and you followed that up with, "that's my girl."

I wish I could get you off my mind but you're all that's present. Why you? Why you of all people? Why did I fall in love with you and why can't I fall out like you did? I didn't even want to fall in love, not at all but at some point you smiled, and, holy shit, I blew it.

Though this letter may never get to you. Maybe you'll never see it. But I hope if you do read it, you know it's about you.

Sincerely, —.'

My hands trembled as I held the bond paper that was folded and untouched, perfect like how it was left. The curls of the ink and the movement of the words were all too familiar for me. The all too familiar memories attached to the simplest words. This wasn't just any letter.

"Darling! Come help me with my bags! I don't want to be late to my next show!!" The voice calling to me was higher in tone and angelic. My eyes traced from the letter and up to the doorway of my simple apartment's living room. A woman with beautiful blonde hair and electric blue eyes stood in the doorway, a mini dress hugging her skinny body. She had a bright pink hand purse held tightly to her left hip, all her weight leaning on her right. Her lips were pursed as her gaze landed upon me.

"Of course.." I spoke softly to her. Words weren't really my thing. I struggled finding a point in using words when very few people would understand them and have feelings tied to them. I stood and walked to the woman, leaving the touching letter on the side of my modern white desk. She kissed my cheek as I grabbed her bags, they were heavy and definitely forced shut due to their abnormal shape. I found myself scuffing my feet to the door and when opening it, the ear ringing creak of the door echoed through the apartment.

I carried the bags to the bright pink Ford Capri and set them in the trunk. My eyes looked up at the sky, a strand of silver hair crossing my vision. My reddened hand reached up and pushed back my hair. I watched the cotton candy skies begin to darken in lavish lava colors. My mind drifted, thinking of the letter.