(Recommended: while reading listen to slow piano music. It is not mandatory)
September, 18th, 1975.
Dear Steve,
My love, my all, I wish you could hear my call for help. It has been almost forty years since you left me, and I still hope to hear your voice one more time. That last day we spent together, I remember you hugged me and told me to listen to your heart beat. I wish I could still hear it beat so close to my ear, feel the warmth of your arms around me. The slow thuds that used to make me relax next to you and fall asleep in your hug. I wish your eyes would look at me again, opening that acceptance of you in my heart. I wish all I could do was say hello to you one more time, one last time, and spend that last day with you all over again. I want to hold you the way you held me, and kiss your face slowly, thanking you for doing what you do, and for being who you are.
The moment we first met, I remember there was no way that you would leave me and go your own way. But after some time, I gave up, let you talk to me, and I got to know you. In time, I realized that you were exactly what I was looking for; everything in me knew you were the one I wanted. After those days, we began spending more and more time together, and all I could think of was you. Two years of pouring love into each other's ears, butterfly kisses and bear hugs, soft caresses on your face and mine, soft nibbles on each other's lips. It was all perfect.
Every time I saw you, I ran to you, I could not bare the distance, I could hardly wait to be in those strong arms that held me so tight against the body that carried them. I could not wait to run the distance, and you could hardly resist running to me as well. I remember the first time you came back from the war in 1932; you looked so happy, that I cried. I cried for the happiness of having you near me again, and for all the months I had spent on my own, trying to convince myself that you were fine, and that everything was going to be okay. I cried because of all the months we had spent sending letters back and forth, and for all the time we waited before we received the next letter, which most expressed how much we loved each other and how everything was. You cried because you could hold me one more time, because you saw me cry. You wiped the tears off my face and told me not to worry, that you were with me. We laughed then, and from that moment on, we spent every day together again, like we used to before you had left for the first time.
When the time came for you to leave for war again, we cried together one more time, and hugged so hard that we could hardly breathe. The past days had been the happiest days of my life. Days, weeks, I treasure in my old heart. I can still hear the beat of your strong heart which I heard those first days we spent together when we were twenty.
On September, 22 of 1935 I received a letter from you. It was dated: September, 18th, 1935. You could not tell me where you were or what you were going to do those next days. All you told me was that you loved me and that if something were to happen, you would always, always be by my side to take care of me and watch me while I sleep. You said that if you weren't to come back home, that you hoped that I remembered only the good and kind of you, and to forget whatever bad you had done, or whatever faults you had. I never found any bad in you, and all I remember now are the days we were able to spend together.
That letter was the last one I received that was written by your hand.
The next letter I received was on September, 24th, 1935. It was dated: September, 20th, 1935. It read: We are sorry to inform you that Mr. Stephen O'Brien has been killed the morning of the present day. I dropped it, and wept for what seemed like years. I then slept, and spent most of my time crying for you, even in dreams.
I miss your hands, your voice, your scent. I miss your words whispering in my ear whenever I hugged you, and your arms wrapped tightly around my fragile body. I miss you. That first day we spent together, I realized we were meant to be.
The memories are beginning to fade away, and I can no longer remember the sound of your voice. It has all been so long ago, and still, the love for you I felt in my heart when I was young remains. In the bottom of my heart, I know you will always be the only one who knew exactly how to love me, take care of me, and the only one who knew me from the inside to the outside.
All I ask for, and have been asking for, for the last forty years is to have you hug me again, and to hear your voice one more time. Just once, because you were what made me smile. After receiving that last letter you had written, I collapsed, and smiled only when being polite, but the sadness remained. It has been too long to remember, but I wish I could be young again, and be held by you once more.
There is no way of saying good-bye to someone who is already gone, but, still, everything counts. So, I bid you farewell my love, my heart, my soul. I say good-bye to you while I can, and still wish for that last hug and whisper of love. I missed you before, I miss you now, and always.
Your eternal love.
Sabrina.
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