Written With Hearts

Written With Hearts - Chapter Thirty One

Yate.....

You know those faint scars that aren't unsightly enough that others can quite see them, but are there so lightly on the skin; a subtle reminder of what happened on the day that you got that scar?

Well, that's how Abby feels to me. I've been getting on with my life, and at times, enjoying it without her. Then something comes along, that reminds me of her; undoing any of that enjoyment that has been so very hard to find. It's been like that for four long months. Four fucking long months of trying to forget the one person that I want to forever remember. Just when I think I'm over her, something happens to confirm that I'm totally not. She has become like this faint little scar; no one else can see, but I know it's there.

Then, out of the fucking blue, I get a letter from her.

I have read it over, and over, and over again, my eyes are actually bored of reading it; but my heart devours each penned word with greedy, loving hunger. For a week now, I've been analysing every single thing that she's written. Wanting to make sense of the words that she has sent to me, needing for them to sink into my soul.

My first reaction was to call her, but then I thought better of it. Her words didn't request that, if anything, her letter was only full of thanks and sad apologies. She couldn't have sounded more thankful and sorry. Which only makes me want to see her even more. Reading between the lines, I think Abby just needed to apologise, and to tell me that she's okay. I think it takes guts to admit that you've sought help for whatever demons lurk inside of you. If anything, it only makes me admire the woman that I can't have, even more. For all of her weaknesses, she has courageous strength. She knew that she had to start fighting those demons, because they were winning. If I had a small hand in her decision to fight back, then that makes me strangely happy.

I know things ended shit between us, but I've only ever wanted her to find happiness. I wish I could have been with her when finding that happiness, but if she's to find it without me, then I have to respect that.

I look down at the creased letter, wishing Abby well in my mind. I just fucking wish I could expel her from my heart. Before the letter, I was teetering on the edge of coping. After the letter, I now can't stop thinking about her. I wonder whether she was consciously aware that she had sent it so close to Valentine's Day? Was this a romantic, yet apologetic, gesture on her part? I blankly stare ahead, becoming more and more weighed down by my overthinking of this damn letter. I decide to switch on the telly, hoping that my thoughts will be temporarily kept occupied. Is fate fucking with me? There in its mushy romantic glory, is Love Actually; bold as brass on my television screen. Not only is this one of Abby's favourite films, it only happens to be on her favourite fucking scene, as well! The part where Andrew Lincoln knocks on Kiera Knightley's door with his feelings written on large pieces of card. Yeah, you know the one! Well, it's showing itself to me like some smug fucking bastard. In temper, I turn off the telly. With growing agitation, I noisily exhale. Slowly driving myself absolutely crazy with thoughts of Abby. Flexing my arms out in front of me, I decide to check on Lily. She went up to bed about an hour ago, but since the accident, she hasn't been sleeping as well. Quietly creeping into her room, I gently sit beside her. Lily's soft breaths are calm and peaceful, which manages to calm me. Staring down at my baby girl, my chest seems to expand with the fullness that my love for her brings.

I smile, knowing that there's only one other person that makes my heart react in the same way. The same person who was once sat, right here, and sang a lullaby to my sleeping princess. The same person, who may not be perfect, but is perfect for me.

Abby sent that letter for a reason. Within her words, there was love hiding in amongst every vowel and consonant. Looking at Lily now, I've only just realised that. I've fought for Abby before, why aren't I fighting for her now? I think her letter was her way of asking that I do just that. So I'm going to fucking fight for her. With everything inside of me, I'm going to fight for our love. My muscles tighten, conditioning myself for what is to come. With extreme determination, my thoughts are now much clearer than they ever have been. I know exactly what I must do.