Dear Mimi,
I got another package, the sender was anonymous. But it had all the letters I sent to you in it, each one put back in it's envelope. Some of them looked to be opened and closed often, the edges soft and fuzzy. You kept them. All of them. I cried again when I realized what they were, and put the letters I never sent to you inside with them. I think I'm still a little shocked over the care you put into preserving them. Although, there was one letter that wasn't mine, in fact it was addressed to me. I don't think I'm strong enough to open it now. But I'll get there. One day I'll be well enough to look at my own shadow. One day I won't be scared that I'm no longer here, and on that day I'll watch the snow fall as I press my nose to the glass until I have to sit in front of a fire to warm up. And maybe today isn't that day, but it could always be tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Because one day I won't look at every stranger like they could be you. And on that day I'll read the words you meant to send to me, and maybe I'll cry, and maybe I'll smile. But I'll read those words and know that you'll be the one to wait for me at the riverside.
I'll meet you when I'm ready,
Roo
P.S. I miss you less everyday, but love doesn't work that way
YOU ARE READING
The Only Two Tragedies In Life
Short StoryWhen a miscommunication between two foreign monarchs is blown out of proportion, the Spade siblings are forced into a world of war. Through a series of letters Rocco and Mika learn more about each other than they did when living together for 18 year...
