"Thank you," I quietly answered as I received the token of affection. "I hope you like it. It may take a while to read, but it''ll be worth it," she replied. My girlfriend had just written me a letter, and it seemed as though this specific letter would take quite some time to read. "It's a not a lot of detail, and I don't use all of the big words that you sometimes write in yours, but it's okay all the same." I really wouldn't have cared if she'd wrote it in cuneiform. The very notion that she would write to me, express her feelings manually, was a prospect that I could not but feel entirely gracious and loved for.
**
When I got home that evening, I read it. I was tense and anxious, but unacc I don't know if I can actually describe fully the emotion that warmed my whole being as I felt the paper, the etchings of her pen, the touch she left on it. In it, she told me everything I wanted to know, and more. "I feel like you're the reason I get up in the morning. It's like, my life has been leading up to this one moment, or I guess person. You truly are the greatest person I've ever known, and I love you so dearly."
II
I got up the next morning feeling invigorated and full of happiness. I poured my morning cup of coffee and couldn't stop thinking about her. She is the one. She is ... everything. I wanted to savor this letter, to feel it again, to caress it, and absorb its contents again. I went to my bedside table where I had laid it, and to my horror, it was gone. She had spent at least week writing this letter to me, professing her love, and pouring out her soul, and I had lost it. I'm such a damned idiot. Why? I've always been forgetful. I looked everywhere, and it wasn't to be found. I don't think things just vanish without a trace.
III
I met her at a cafe. What was I gonna say to her? That'd I lost her precious gift to me? The item that signified that we were truly, madly, deeply in love with one another? She seemed in a state of uncomfortable and nervous anxiety. "I...I've got something to say," she told me. "Me too," I sighed. "I snuck into your house last night and took the letter." What?? Does this mean we're through? She no longer has any form of affection or care towards me? "I.. I did it because I thought it would be.. too much. I meant everything I said, I just didn't know how you'd feel afterwards." I assured her it was the greatest thing I'd ever laid eyes upon, and thereafter, I gave her my letter.
**
When I got home that evening, I read it. I was tense and anxious, but unacc I don't know if I can actually describe fully the emotion that warmed my whole being as I felt the paper, the etchings of her pen, the touch she left on it. In it, she told me everything I wanted to know, and more. "I feel like you're the reason I get up in the morning. It's like, my life has been leading up to this one moment, or I guess person. You truly are the greatest person I've ever known, and I love you so dearly."
II
I got up the next morning feeling invigorated and full of happiness. I poured my morning cup of coffee and couldn't stop thinking about her. She is the one. She is ... everything. I wanted to savor this letter, to feel it again, to caress it, and absorb its contents again. I went to my bedside table where I had laid it, and to my horror, it was gone. She had spent at least week writing this letter to me, professing her love, and pouring out her soul, and I had lost it. I'm such a damned idiot. Why? I've always been forgetful. I looked everywhere, and it wasn't to be found. I don't think things just vanish without a trace.
III
I met her at a cafe. What was I gonna say to her? That'd I lost her precious gift to me? The item that signified that we were truly, madly, deeply in love with one another? She seemed in a state of uncomfortable and nervous anxiety. "I...I've got something to say," she told me. "Me too," I sighed. "I snuck into your house last night and took the letter." What?? Does this mean we're through? She no longer has any form of affection or care towards me? "I.. I did it because I thought it would be.. too much. I meant everything I said, I just didn't know how you'd feel afterwards." I assured her it was the greatest thing I'd ever laid eyes upon, and thereafter, I gave her my letter.
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