All the Ways to Say "With Love" (Jimohnny)

Letter Eight

Dear Johnny,

Happy Anniversary.

I’ve asked the guys to leave me alone today. I don’t want to see them. I only want to see you, and something tells me you won’t be showing up any time soon.

I cried all my tears this morning. I didn’t mean to cry, I told myself I wouldn’t, told myself to be strong, but in the end I couldn’t help it.

Four years ago today, we got married.

Oh, Johnny, do you remember that day?

I remember being nervous. I was so, so nervous. I thought I was going throw up, standing there, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

I had teased you about wearing a dress, much to your dismay. But you’re a man and I’m a man and that’s not what we men do. So you wore a white tuxedo, and I wore a black one. That’s the only way to go.

Katie’s daughter was our flower girl. She was so cute, little white dress with blue flowers sewn on, practically throwing the white petals everywhere. But it was wonderful.

I remember watching you walk down the aisle, shaking as I took the paper out of my pocket where I’d written down my vows, tears blurring my vision, so I couldn’t read the words. My tongue felt thick and dry in my mouth, it was so hard to speak.

I just couldn’t believe it; we had finally made it. We were getting married and I’d have you officially, forever. You’d be mine and you would sleep next to me every night, be by my side through the thick and thin, have to listen to my horrible jokes and laugh at them just to make me feel good. No matter what.

James and Jonathan Sullivan.

Now I wish I had taken your name.

James Seward sounds weird on my tongue, but it would help remind me of you since you’re not around anymore.

I managed to stumble through my vows, voice thick with emotion and joy, so much joy. You were nervous too, Johnny, don’t tell me you weren’t nervous because I know you were. I saw the way your hands shook just as bad as mine. Just because you weren’t shedding tears doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous.

But it wasn’t a bad nervous. It was a good nervous, the best nervous I’ve ever felt before. Because there was nothing that could have gone wrong. The whole building could have burned down and it would’ve been okay.

Well, maybe then it wouldn’t have been okay, but you get the point. It was excitement, not anxiety.

And when that old preacher man, I don’t even remember his name and it wasn’t even that long ago, when he said we could fucking kiss each other, I could hear the angel choir in the background. I could feel the fireworks exploding, spelling out the words “YOU DID IT!” It was like the Titanic never sank, like we never nuked Japan. Holocaust? Did that really happen? None of it mattered just then, because I hugged you and kissed you sweetly.

Or maybe you kissed me sweetly. ‘Cause I was ready to full blown have sex with my husband in the aisle. But you pulled away, and I scooped you up and carried you down the aisle to the reception.

I have so many days that I count as the best day ever, Johnny. Was it getting married or falling in love or my 25th birthday when you and the guys threw me a surprise birthday party? I have no idea. But I do know one thing.

That day, I gave you my heart. Not only did I fall for you, I fucking slammed down and face planted into the ground for you. There will be no falling out of love this time. No way. Sometimes I imagine you still have my heart, still beating steadily in a Ziploc bag tucked away somewhere close to you.

I’m willing to let it beat, even though you’re not here anymore. People can survive with amputated arms or legs, so I’ll make do with an amputated heart.

Sending even more love than I had for you on our wedding day (because, believe it or not, it’s grown immensely),

Jimmy