Love letter # 55

Tonight, as I write, the warm air buzzes, voices drift up from the street. Down there, where I have just been, they are walking arm in arm – and I have lurched up the stairs missing you like mad. Wondering why; even though why won’t matter.

I tell myself to forget you and my friends agree. They say things about you that fill my imagination with horror, that almost make me determined. Yet when the truth crashes through …

There is nothing more to be lost now so I might as well risk it all. You can’t be any more gone.

I look over my shoulder at us and what I see is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was you who said you couldn’t do close. It wasn’t that we fought or fell out – in fact you were at your most loving just minutes before midnight – it’s just that you decided. You flicked some switch and your soft gaze steeled, your warm voice dried. You broke it off on the phone, almost like an after-thought at the end of our regular late night lovers’ call – and then simply stopped calling. Your affection emptied out. Us washed away like shavings.

People tell me things. Hideous stories. I feel sick when I hear them – and I yearn to hold you again.

I wonder how so much obvious magic can turn so abruptly to nothing. Even now I am still bewildered. I look at these loving couples on the sidewalk and I know exactly what’s missing.

But I am not writing for the past, I’m writing to spark a future. All those promise I made, each and every wild, creative scheme we hatched, they are still here. You need only whisper the thought for it all to come true.

Look at it – all this beauty for your deciding. You must remember it; how easily we connected, how effortlessly we flew … Hey, I might as well ask.

I understand that the chances of you reading this are close to nil but I could not sleep tonight without at least trying. When I click send and these words go spiralling through the matrix to your machine I will possess, if only for the few foolish seconds before oblivion, some small sliver of belief.

Not hope. I’m not that stupid. Just a little more faith in you, my beautiful absent love.





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