Words Left Unsaid (romance smackdown round 3)

Dear Baxter,

            I write this letter to you my dearest canine in hopes that you will understand my position and in turn understand the undertaking I leave to you.

The expedition I had said I would be returning from shortly has now become an extended stay I am afraid. I know that I had promised to return by Christmas, in hopes of celebrating the holidays with you and our dearest love, but destiny and Arctic winds have decided otherwise.

Knowing that last night we spent together, both segregated to the couch for upsetting our dearest, you laid loyally next to me, but I could tell you agreed with her. Her apprehension for accepting this trip, her anger for my not discussing it with her prior to acceptance, it was all obvious on your face Baxter. I could sense that I had no ally in you, but you stayed by my side none the less, till the sun rose and I was left to depart amongst an icy farewell.

Only you followed me to the car, offering me your half-hearted condolences, though I do believe that I saw a sliver of those rose perfumed raven locks chanting from the window. You watched me as I threw my belongings into the trunk of that wretched vehicle she clings to so loyally; the one she loves to remind me is where we had our first steamy encounter. Even now, miles away from her, without hope of feeling her embrace, I blush from the memory.

Once I had completed the task, and slowly ran through my mental check list of requirements in hopes she would soften her stance, you stood by, watching as if in mockery that I entertained for a moment she would relent in her stubbornness. For was it not her bull headed nature that had made her endearing to us? Her refusal to allow reality to cloud her path of want. From the moment she laid eye on me, pursing me till she convinced me that I was indeed never going to find a greater love than her, to the time she brought you home, a small ridiculously cute ball of golden blond fluff, and completed our home.

But she never came out, and you and I stood, as men often do, on the cusp of what we want versus what we will allow. I wanted to march from where we stood into that home, rip her from her view behind the curtains, tear the clothes from her perfect body, and take her in a way that would warm the nights I was to be away. I wanted to kiss every ridge, every corner, and every wrinkle of flesh I found on her, creating waves of desire that would have her needing me every moment we were apart. I wanted to consume her, in breath and body, our souls finding themselves forever wrapped in a tantric desire that even across our miles we would be able to feel in the very core of our being. 

But my pride would not allow it. And thus I gave you one last hug Baxter, and made you promise that you would watch over her and protect her until I could resume my duties.

 Now as I stare out onto the barren icy landscape that is to be my final destination, how I wished I had at least told her how much I adored her.  How so many times I would recall the exact blush of her cheeks that moment we met, how her gaze entranced me, shy and yet so very enticing from beneath her lashes. Had I told her that even though I could not recall every argument we had had, I hold dear to every 'I love you' we have shared. How before her I thought myself a content man, who only truly discovered the range of his heart beat upon meeting her.

And so Baxter I entrust unto you the woman that is my soul, to guard and keep, as I would have had I not followed the folly of men. I wish her to know that I sought fulfillment in my explorations, but it was the adventure of sharing my life with her that was in fact my greatest accomplishment. 

This letter will most likely get trapped beneath the frozen waters, encapsulated in its glass bottle until destiny deems it time to find you my most loyal friend. Should it be hundreds of years, please let her know, I will still love her.