Solace in her words


I was scrimmaging through my belongings the other night, I found my notebook. Little book with a brown and blue cover, I opened it and dust sprung from the pages like the cobwebs from an old cupboard during a Saturday spring clean. In between the pages I found the first letter that she ever wrote me. She was right, seeing her handwriting is very weird. Seeing it again after almost two years makes it even weirder. 

Every word made me nostalgic, I read with the concentration of a kid in first grade made to read aloud to his classmates by an evil scheming teacher. Every sentence hurt and every paragraph was more unbearable than the last. It hurts; it still hurts and even though I’m over her it still hurts. I could die and be resurrected 200 years from now, reading that letter would still hurt.

Her words although simple are very moving, time could pass and their effect would not fade. She was adamant that I was the one guy who she could not stay away from or forget no matter how hard she tried. The irony! She said that I diffused into a space she never thought existed, her statement still touches that place in my heart that I closed off to protect my feelings and my sanity. With every page I read her words touched deeper into that place. I could erase her but seeing her handwriting would flood me with memories instantly.

As I put the letter back in between the pages of my notebook, I feel  a little vacuum, a little space filled with nothing that exists, it’s found in my heart where she took a piece of me with her when she left.

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