❝love, Louis.❞ [l.t.]

third

sankofa (n.) (phr.) "go back and fetch it"; we must look back to the past so that we may understand how we became what we are, and move forward to a better future.

Mads,

It's a new day, which means new feelings and new actions to go along with the new, bloody fantastic sunshine ! The clouds are out of sight, out of mind ! :)

I'm sorry about that first little paragraph. Just try to ignore it. Dr. Napeer was over my shoulder observing me. I'm sitting here in his office; did I ever tell you it smells like old cigar smoke and muddy feet? Well, it does. He has candles scattered all over the place, though I've never seen him light one. I keep getting up to take a sniff at the one near me, a vanilla bean flavoured one. No, wait, not flavoured. Scented. You always used to yell at me about that, remember?

"Candles aren't flavoured." You would say, and snatch away whatever candle was in my hand. "Only once you taste them do they become flavoured. But as long as you're using your nose, they're just scented."

My bum gets so sore sitting on this couch of his, but it's the closest spot to the candle. It reminds me of the scent of you. You always smelled like vanilla and daisies, which was the best combination of smells I never would have thought of on my own. I could never take my nose away from you, which was good for whenever I wanted to get a laugh out of ya'. You had the cutest laugh, and if I got you chuckling hard enough, you would make that precious little snort. I'm sorry that you hated it love, because it was one of my favourite sounds. It still is.

I've been here at the office for almost an hour and a half now. Isn't that just insane? I hate this man. I was here for our session and was all ready to leave, when he forced me to sit back down. I almost was baffled by him, but then I realized he wanted me to write your letter so he could see it... and keep it.

He's not keeping this from you.

I'm going to write down some shit on another sheet and give him that. Hopefully he'll believe it. When I asked him what to talk about, he told me only one word. Sankofa. That's the word of the day, if you didn't see it earlier.

I just sat there staring at him after that, looking over his ugly liquor gut and his wrinkly face. His eyes were grey, and just stared back at me with the same level of silence that surrounded us in the room. When I asked him what that meant, he just smiled at me. He's got a terrifying smile, I'll tell ya' that much.

So, I swiped a piece of paper and a pen off of his desk.

And now here I am.

He makes me turn my phone off whenever I come in here, but when he got up to wee, I took it out and searched for what that word meant. Go back and fetch it, eh? My past?

The only past I want to go and fetch is the past I have with you. You're the reason I am who I am to this day, and will forever remain to be.

If Dr. Naparse thinks I'll let him read my own personal thoughts about us and our past, he can understand that he has every right to go to Hell.

But writing about us sounds... nice. A little escape back to when life treated me kindly. When I thought life was on my side. Just thinking back to when we were together makes shivers run down my back. I wish I was able to look at you and hold your hand another time while I write about us.

You would like to read about that, wouldn't you? Us, young, bashful, and naive? I can remember it all back at the Busy Bean. I remember how idiotic and smug I was. You, however, you always stayed the same. The same beautiful, intelligent, lovely girl I met over five years ago.

Shit-- the doc is back from his bathroom trip. I need to write up some other letter on the sheet about how I've moved on-- I know that's what he's hoping to read. Well, lucky for him, he will.

He tried making me share what I've already written, but with the look I just gave him, he knew that he wasn't about to read this just yet. He told me he's excited to read my process in writing, rather than through the vague words I speak at our sessions.

Maybe if I make up some bullshit story about how I'm happy and ready to move on, he'll get off my back. Then I can go back to writing at my own peace and pleasure.

I'll write to you again soon, my dear. I have a present I'm wanting to give you.

love, Louis.

****
Hello !

I'm on spring break right now and I'm touring colleges until Tuesday I believe, but I thought I would pop this chapter out for you all for getting this story to 100 reads!

Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I do writing it. :)

Ooh, and I have a question: what could Louis possibly want to give Madaline? Any ideas?