Letters {Watty Awards 2013 Winner}

Epilogue: A Letter from a Certain Boy

Dear Love,

            I cannot seem to stay asleep. Lying next to you usually entrances me into the unconscious, but you are not here tonight. You are with our children, on a plane to Paris to get a head start on our vacation before I follow you up in a couple of days. Oh, I wish I was there with you right now. My heart hurts as I sit here, alone in our house, no longer hearing the pitter patter of little feet or the sweet hum of your voice.

            I’ve always loved the sound of your voice.

            Do you remember when we were back in high school? You may think that I didn’t notice you, but I did. And I loved your voice just as much then as I do now. You see, I have always loved you, though I may not have known exactly how much until I realized that I could lose you. Do you remember that day? That was the day that you gave me your last letter. That was the day that you saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I can remember that day like it was yesterday because I almost didn’t marry you. I almost married someone that I did not truly love. Someone who had deceived me. The emotions of that day stand so clear in my memory, from reading your letter, to standing at the altar, to running after you in the rain.

            You probably remember it, but let me tell you how it was from my perspective…

           

            It was approximately 10am on that drizzly summer morning as I sat in my dressing room adjusting my bowtie. It was an awful pink color that was absolutely hideous in every way, but I wore it because my fiancé asked me to. And I was about to marry her.

               My fiancé.

            A very unpleasant squeezing sensation twisted at my heart, attempting to suffocate me. But this was not the kind of sensitivity that one feels when they are in love. Oh no, this was the kind of feeling that one feels when they are about do something terribly wrong. But I wasn’t doing anything wrong, was I?

            I tried to shake the feeling off, but I just couldn’t quite let go of the pit in my stomach that formed every time I thought of her.

            It’s just my nerves, I kept telling myself, it’s just the beginning of cold feet. It will pass…

            A soft flutter of paper by the door took my attention away from my thoughts, saving me from my doubts for the time being. Through the mirror I saw that something had been slid under the door. As I proceeded from my place at the mirror, still trying to fix my bowtie, I realized what it was that had made its way into my dressing room. A letter.

            When the full realization hit me as to what it was, I stopped messing with my impossible collar and bent down to pick it up. My name was written in the most elegant calligraphy on the envelope and I knew exactly who it was from. Or at least, I thought that I did.

            I settled into the armchair in the far corner of the room and opened the envelope with great care. As I unfolded the letter, a feeling of lovely anticipation rose from the bottom of my stomach, spreading to all of my appendages. I loved that feeling. I hadn’t felt it in a while, but I was very fond of it. I was very fond of it, indeed.

            My eyes scanned the words all the way down the page, expecting that my fiancé had written some encouraging words to me rid myself of feelings of cold feet. I read every word individually, giving equal attention to each one. I reread the entire letter four times and I could not believe what I was reading.

            A lie. It was all a lie.

            A flood of despair washed over my body. What was I going to do? This was all wrong! I couldn’t marry my fiancé today under false assumptions, but I couldn’t embarrass her either. This would truly be the greatest embarrassment of all. I could not make her go through that…