My Love - my love

this is very much fictional I wrote it before I realised everyone else was doing something different - oops

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My love,

I know we haven’t talked in a while. A long time, actually, and for that I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. I love you. I don’t mean a crush, or adoration, I mean it fully when I say that you are my one true love, and I will always love you. I’m sorry we left it so badly, I want more than anything in this world to make it right with you, but if you do not want me, if you no longer need me, I understand.

However, I would like to say my piece ,and I couldn’t find you in person so I decided I’d write it down. I went as far as to buy fancy blue letter paper ( I thought you’d like the dove on the envelope) and I snuck it into a perfume shop to spray it with the samples. I wasn’t sure which smell you’d like best so I didn’t buy one, but I wanted this to at least smell nice, I wanted it to be perfect. The pen I’m writing in is the one you lent me on our first date, at café ? Remember, I randomly got a call from the guy who was fixing my TV, and I had to write a phone number down. I swear, if not for that call, we might’ve kissed. I’m sorry I never gave the pen back, but if you like, I can leave it for you to find.

I miss you. Everyone misses you. There’s a big hole in my life and my heart, and I just can’t think straight without you by my side. Do you remember our wedding vows? I swore to love you forever, and cherish you, and protect you, and you swore the same. You left my heart in pieces on the floor after we argued, and you trod over them as you left. Why did you break your vows, why couldn’t you love me forever? Did I break mine, did I fail to protect you?

Why did you have to go?

My pen is running out ink; it’s a gel pen with glitter among the blackness - like space. But of course you know that, you gave it to me, and you’re reading this now. Unless you tore it up when you saw my handwriting, or most likely it never made it’s way to you at all – I don’t know the rules, but my friend told me it would help if I wrote to you. Her name’s Lucy, you’d like her.

I need to know that you know that I love you. I know I told you I hated you, but that was never true. I love you so much that it hurts so much, I know I’ve said it already, but I need you to know. It isn’t like the crushes we had when we were younger, it isn't like the love we thought we had for previous partners. Our love is different, it’s special, but it’s been hard to find since you died.

I can’t decide if I’ll leave this on your grave, or if I’ll read it to you as I’m sat there. I don’t know if I can bear to say your name. I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry we fought before it happened, I’m sorry for what I’ve said. I’m sorry that our chance to be parents was taken too, I’m sorry I couldn’t save either of you, I'm sorry I didn't know you were pregnant until it was too late. Your pen’s nearly out of ink, it’s faded to a glittery grey. I’m not sure if I have enough ink to finish, so I’ll have to end it here, before I’ve said all that I want to, before I’ve finished. I've been running out of ink this whole letter - were we running out of time the whole time we were together?

I love you. Please write back soon,

Your love.

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