detailed stories

last letter - Abby Gerhard

Tw: illness

No matter where I am or where you are, I'm always with you. You're in my heart, my head, my soul;
and I hope the same goes for you. Words can't describe the love and compassion I have for you my darling.
I hope that you keep these letters, to look back on our love, how it was and will always be
genuine. We might not be able to show people how much we do, but you always know
how much I love you,
Abby.

A tear dripped onto the piece of paper as you folded it back into its orginal creases, be careful with the delicate piece.

It slowly dried and you soon placed it back into the shoebox, where all the other letters were.

That was the last letter she wrote to you, from the hospital. And the last letter you'll ever get from your wife.

Abby's letters were always filled with beautiful words, words that you didn't even know exsisted. She used the words to describe you, the ways she used to love you, the way she admired you, the way she basically worshipped you.

You picked up an old photo of her, when she was asleep. She never knew that you had taken it.

It was your favourite picture of her. She looked so peaceful and ethereal, even when sleeping.

Placing the shoebox back under the bed, memories started to replay in your head: the time when you and Abby first met, in a cafe in Paris. She accidently bumped into you, almost spilling her coffee onto you. "Close call," you giggled. Eventually, after weeks of talking, you finally had the courage to ask her out.

The rest is history.

It was only a few years back when Abby fell ill with tuberculosis. Only after a few months, was she diagnosed and said it wasn't treatable.
Abby's health rapidly decreased and it was visible. She quickly began loosing weight, feeling weaker and constantly coughing up blood. It was awful to see her health fall like this.
A few more months had passed and Abby was now in hospital for the long run. She could barely get out of bed, incase of the risk of her  falling.
You visited her everyday, on most nights staying directly adjacent to her bed. Holding her hand the whole time.
It broke your heart, everytime you arrived at the hospital knowing that she didn't have long left.

The last day you went to see her, you didn't know it was her last, but somehow she did. Abby handed over the letter, and told you to open within a few days.

"I love you baby, and I always will," she could barely speak.

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Hey everyone, I know its a sad one but an idea popped into my head and I love it. So here you go