Thank You

Reading

It takes everything in me to not collapse in my mother's arms once again. With an unknown force coming from who knows where, I succeed in reaching my room without having my legs giving up on me on the way. I lock the door with trembling hands, same hands that struggle holding the white envelope without letting it slip. I sit on my bed right when I can feel myself falling. I find myself staring at the unopened envelope, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

My head is a mess. All kinds of reactions explode in every bit of space left in my brain that isn't occupied by some vivid memory of things that I – mostly – wish I could forget. My mind is a haze, and I quickly simply cannot hear myself think anymore. I know that opening the envelope is probably a solution for the chaos reigning inside me, but I can't quite move anymore. I am like paralyzed, looking at the smally written name on the envelope. I have to shake myself, to slap myself even. I need to act. I need to open this letter. I need to read these words Cate addressed to me. I need Cate.

This simple thought triggers some kind of mechanical reaction in my body. My hands softly open the envelope, but it's as though I was floating outside of my body, and that someone was controlling each and every move I make, using me as a puppet. Oh ! what this woman makes me feel. Before I know it, a sheet of previously folded paper lies on my thighs. I press it down gently to undo the folds as much as possible, while perfectly knowing that I could never give the letter its initial appearance.

My vision seems to be blurred. The entire universe has decided to make it impossible for me to get to Cate, in every single way possible. But slowly – too slowly to my liking – I can see clearly again, and the blurry lines become beautifully written sentences that I apparently can read at last. It takes me what feels like forever to start deciphering the words on the page though, my heartbeat being so quick I had to close my eyes not to suffocate. This kind of love is painful. But the pain doesn't last forever, its fades away as I start reading Cate's very first letter to me.

My darling Diana,

I know you must have been worried sick about me even after I told not to be. I am honored to think I get this sort of consideration from a wonderful person like yourself. However, you do need to calm your nerves a bit, my darling. You are killing yourself worrying as much.

I am writing to you as it has been impossible for me to make any phone calls that weren't work-related. I could not be sure, but I suspect Andrew to have put a microphone in my work office. I do not know how much time this will take to get to you, but I expect you will be receiving this today, or the day after tomorrow since tomorrow is the first day of the New Year. Happy New Year, my darling. I wish for all your dreams and hopes to come true. I wish I could tell you all of this in person and kiss you under the mistletoe at midnight, but reality is far more complicated, isn't it ?

I know you are probably dying to hear about my return a week ago, and it went as smoothly as I expected it. My bruises are healing nicely, and it feels quite great to get a kind of attention that isn't violent. I promised you he wouldn't dare hitting me again after I told him, and that is a promise kept. I know this won't be enough to stop the worrying, but I hope it brings at least a bit of peace to your troubled mind, my darling.

I wish I could be with you, touch you, smell you, kiss you. Until the day I can get to you safely again, please do not try to see me. It is unsafe, dangerous even, for you to come and see me. I wish things could be different, but in the meantime, you can always write to me. Please send your letters to the theatre, we wouldn't want Andrew to pick up your letter at the house. I sincerely hope you will be glad to receive this letter and will write back. Either way, I promise you I will write again.

With all my love,

Your Cate.

Cate knew exactly what she was doing when she decided to use 'my darling' as her first words, I am quite sure of it. It makes my heart flutter only by looking at the words. My mind does feel slightly more at peace after reading her words a few times. She is safer than she was when I last saw her. She is fine, and she is going to keep on being fine.

Rage does rise in me when I read the name of Andrew twice in the letter. The sentiment is attached to the name, it feels like. A burning feeling, full of anger and hatred. That he does not physically hurt her anymore matters just a little. If I do feel better about Cate not being beaten up, I do not thin any less of him. The mentions of abuse in the letter are enough to make me want to punch him. To kill him.

I try to evacuate the fury by exhaling loudly, walking over to my desk to write an answer. It takes me hours to get the letter right, but after all, it won't be picked up until the day after tomorrow. But as I furiously write down some bribes of thoughts on yet another sheet of paper, this doesn't matter. I have to write back now, no matter when it will eventually get to her. I am done right before my mother calls me to dinner, still unsure about half of the content of the letter but running to the post office letterbox at the end of our street anyway. As I walk back to the house, a small smile starts to creep on my face. I close my eyes and replay the last words she wrote on her letter. Your Cate. I am hers, and she is mine.

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yes, i did almost write dearest at the beginning of the letter and yes, i did write something else than heavy trauma. this is actually quite enjoyable i believe, for a change.
anyway this is the fifth chapter i wrote today, the writing is probably a bit tired.