THE 100 IMAGINES

[.] Paper Hearts.

     My dearly beloved,

Although I know I will never send this to you, I somehow find comfort in writing it. I know that I will never find the courage to say what I'm about to write to you, but I had to get it out somehow.

The thought of leaving you behind hurts me more than I'm willing to admit, but I guess the fear and worry of what you might think makes me more human than what I originally thought I was, which for me now means an awful lot considering what we have been through.

You know when I was younger I use to read books about Earth. I read about the different dreams and ambitions people once had when life was worth living for them. From firefighters to police, from doctors to dentists, from cowboys to teachers, from vets to politicians, from actors to writers, from artists who draw pictures to spacemen who gaze upon the stars. I know what I want to be.

I once stumbled upon great novels from once-famous writers had written, and movies and films that displayed a range of colours and emotions, and old forgotten love letters to those who were once loved and adored. I guess I suppose I'm doing just that, I'm writing to you, the one I love the most, the one I can't live without, yet the one I need to part myself from. To distance myself from, the one I need to learn to survive without because although my heart aches and craves for every ounce of your being, I know that deep in my heart that I am not yours and nor you mine.

My days and nights were once filled with passion and hope, but I knew it could never last for I had to let you go, and although my love for you is everlasting I know yours was only temporary. My love for you grows fonder with each and every day.

Time had got in the way, it made you slip through my fingertips like grains of sand on the beautiful and breath-taking beaches that I have read about in those books. I know that one day we will meet again and we will reunite in the stars from which we both came. Although our time together was bittersweet, I like to think more of those times where we would lay together not saying a word but only listening to each other's heartbeats and the slow rhythm of our breathing.

It's comforting to know that I was graced with your presence for a while. They say a dictionary has every word one might need yet I can't find a single word to describe how I truly feel about you in this very moment. I would say there is no word to use.

But it is you. It has always been you. I cannot describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you, and somehow, I can see fifty years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we're together. I need you. You are the only thing that matters. You are my good.

Funny how something that is meant to bring people together can split so many people apart. If I told you how much you actually mean to me, would you stay and think of me the same?

Silence is the loudest form of pain, so I shall stay that way forever, in order for you to be happy.

So, to you, my dearly beloved, I risk my life for you and our daughter, so that one day, we may meet again.

Stay happy,

The one who will never forget you.

"Why did you show me this?" You asked your grandad, who sat down on his old worn out brown leather sofa, his old round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, his, now white, hair was combed over neatly. In his hand laid an old pocket watch that stopped ticking a long time ago.

He had been cleaning out an old room of his when he found a box of your mother's old things, both your parents had passed away, one from a battle and the other heartache.