billet doux

p r o l o g u e / p r ó l o g o

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the life eloise bellerose led before him was nothing like the aftermath.

⠀she was only a french girl who moved to the country of colombia--where her mother was born--at the tender age of nine. she was not called by her name, it was always ' the shy one ' or ' eve's twin sister ', never just eloise. she lived under her older sibling's shadow as eve outshone her in every way possible. eve was spontaneous and out-going, a girl everyone wanted to befriend it was possibly the only thing eloise ever hoped to be.

⠀while her name was meant for a warrior, it completely contradicted who she was. the girl stumbled over her words too often and shied away too much. always lacking something, always being too much of another.

⠀but then here comes a boy, he had the right amount of everything. james rodríguez was perfect, too perfect. maybe it was the chocolate brown eyes or the way he smiled that attracted her, or even the way he'd ruffle her hair and tell her she was a ' good girl ' from time to time. nevertheless, she loved him.

but so did her sister.

⠀it was a game of tug of war in which james' heart had two strings and she was always on the losing side. so she started to write to him, one anonymous love letter each week. it went on for years, until one day her father told them to pack their bags. they were moving back to their home country.

⠀to say she was devastated was an understatement. she remembered writing her love letter that night, with bloodshot eyes and shaking fingers.

my colombia,

the number of miles that should soon separate us will in no way lessen my sweet affliction for you have every last piece of me. you have my word, you have all my words. i'll miss your eyes that held the prettiest stars, your smile that made me feel like i had hundreds of moths inside of me and even your resounding laughter which is easily my favorite song.

with each shaky stroke of the pen i made on this paper, every word written, i want you to remember them all. maybe it was safer if i kept my heart in pieces but now you have it all.

this may be the last of my love letters, the final billet-doux. but i can only hope you won't ever forget, i'll find my way back to you.

all my love,
france