Dear Camila,
Like I have told you before, I hate romantic movies. They're too cheesy, too unrealistic. None of those things even happen. But you loved them almost as much as you loved music and food. Sometimes I would think you loved them more than you loved me. You always admired a good chick flick or a good romantic novel. I guess it was your escape from reality.
For our anniversary, I wanted to do something. At first I was thinking a dinner at a restaurant and then maybe some mini golfing and a movie, but I decided that this one needed to be special. This one needed to be romantic.
I flew us up to Paris, the city of love and magic. The place where people fell in love. The place where things actually seemed to play out like they did in the movies.
When we go to Paris I rented us a hotel room and unpacked our stuff for the week and then I took you out to dinner. But, this dinner was special. It was better. It more romantic. More...Camila.
You wore a low cut white summer dress that hugged your curves perfectly. And you wore light makeupwith a white slouch beanie to cover your bald head. Although you had no hair you still looked like the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen in my life. I was so lucky in that moment to be able to call you mine. To be able to introduce you as my wife.
You smiled at me in the dark as I lead you up to the top of the Eiffel tower. We sat near the edge where the railings were so we could look down upon the city as we ate and talked about absolutely nothing. And that is exactly what we did.
But there was one moment in the dinner that we shared that I still to this day cannot get out of my mind. Sometimes I wish could so I don't have to hurt anymore. But then again, I don't want to forget the times we shared, because if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would. I would trade every penny I had in my pocket to see us fall in love again.
You smiled up at the full moon that hung right above us. The moon glinted off of your beautiful browneyes, making them look lighter than they were. And in that moment, I was reminded and felt what it was like to fall in love with you again. Every moment that I spent with you in my past came rushing back as I stared at you staring at the moon. You caught me and giggled as you took a bite your spaghetti.
"What?" You asked me.
I shook my head and even though you wouldn't get it, because let's face it, you never do. I reminded you again that you were beautiful. It was like the moment in my truck with the stars again.
You shook your head and grinned. But you weren't seeing what I was seeing, so you would never understand.
After a couple of hours of eating and staring out at the moon and talking about nonsense, I finally pulled out my guitar and sang you a song. Not just any song. Our song. Kiss me by Ed Sheeran.
You kissed me after I sang the song and we went back to the hotel and made love. It was the first time in a long time because you had been so insecure about your body after you found out that you had cancer, that sometimes you wouldn't even allow me to touch you. But that night, you let all of your walls down again for me.
Paris really is the city of love.
Sincerely,
Lauren Jauregui
