To Dean,
« I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way that this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest...
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LETTERS
To Dean,
« On this cold and lonely night, With the moon shining bright, I lie awake, your picture clutched tight, The memories cannot be denied, Haunting the caverns of my mind, Like a thief in the night, How do I say goodbye? Filled with sadness, I cry
Blaiming myself for all the pain, The tears I shed, they fall like rain, Loneliness and sorrow, are all that remain. »
I think it's time for me to stop sending you letters,
Goodbye Dean, Joy.
. . .
ANNABEL was clamping her comforter tightly, trying her hardest not to cry. She had skipped dinner and even the sound of her stomach craving for food wasn't enough to distract her from the crushing feeling of sadness radiating inside her entire body.
Today, it had been a year since she had sent her first letter to Dean. And in a year, he had never bothered to write back, not even to ask who she was, or to ask her to stop writing.
And after a year, Annabel thought it was wise to quit this little habit of hers, it wasn't sane and didn't help her get rid of her feelings for him, in fact it only increased them. Her eyes closed, she whimpered, a small tear running freely down her cheek.
That is when she heard the knock.
Opening her eyes, she noticed an owl at her window —the same owl she had used to send her last letter to Dean. Standing up quickly, and almost slipping in the process, she opened the window to allow the owl to fly inside.
Her breath stuck in her throat when she saw the bird dropping a letter on the floor, then leaving quickly.
With a shaky breath, shaky hands and a confused mind, Annabel grabbed the letter and sat on her bed, quickly unfolding the piece of parchment.
To Joy,
Please, do not stop writing. I might not know your really name, but I feel like you are a real part of my life.
And, as beautiful as it was, this poem broke my heart.
So please, keep writing, just not poems like this.
I am ready to write you back,
Dean.
. . .
A/N: Finally, after a yEAR DEAN WAKES UP AND WRITES BACK! What did you think of this little chapter? Personally, I'm really excited because that means there will be real conversations through letters :) A little comment would mean a lot :) especially since I'm kind of new with this type of writing, all the letters thing is not what I'm used to do, so I hope it's good enough :)
