Very much just another blog

Your letter

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When it was over and I had left you, we sat on opposite sides of the country writing our loss in that twisted way one might. From time to time we would move some of those words into letters and send them as though the sending could mend us, but knowing really that it can’t.

I would kneel at my open door by a letter just arrived, your handwriting unmistakable on an envelope, one I bought, I think, and left in the desk four drawers down. I read each letter fast because it hurt too much to do so slowly. I gulped them down to avoid the taste, to not feel them so hard inside me. And then I stored them safely in a silver box which I locked and I kept the key on a ribbon which I wore around my neck.

From time to time I would go back to the box and read through your letters again. There were others there too from the years when we were so happy and I read them all. Notes and cards and photos that lay quietly together making the picture we have tried to return to.

Last time I looked in the box one of your letters was gone. I am still looking for it; I am still looking for you.


Written by elikafm

March 20, 2010 at 10:51 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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