Love Letters. A Short Story.

YA Fiction

My Love Letter to You,

Remember when we first met? You were six and I was five. Our mothers took us to the park and we would get sucked into our world of fantasy. Ever since then, we always spent time with each other…even though you were a little boy and I was a little girl. I didn't care what other girls thought of me when I spent my summer days with you. I wouldn't have changed that for the world.

I think I can honestly say that I was in love with you the minute I saw you. I knew instantly that I wanted to be your friend…that I wanted to stay with you forever. Once we grew closer, that was when you started telling me about your dad. He was even mentally unstable then, with his heavy drinking problem and short temper. You never deserved that, Jim. Your father should never have treated your mother and you the way he did. I loved you even more because of it. I wanted to be the best friend you ever had. I wanted to show you that I was a steadfast friend.

Once I started seeing more and more of whom and what your father truly was, I couldn't bear to watch you suffering. I wanted to help you and you let me. You let me see your true emotions — whether it had been the tears of hate or anguish or just plain anger or love of friendship. Even though now, I realize it was more than just love of friendship. It was real love. The kind that you can't even begin to describe in words…the kind of love that you know is there because it blossomed over time through friendship and a sturdy foundation.

I could never let go of you so quickly like you did to me. I cried when you left, Jim. Do you even realize how much it hurt me when you left? I wouldn't speak to anyone for days…I think it had been a couple of weeks when I finally spoke to my mother about it. I was sobbing when I told her. She couldn't say anything to me after I confessed to her. She just held me and let me cry.

Anyway, if this letter ever does reach you, I still want to see you again, Jim. You mean the world to me still. I don't know how much longer I can put up with the fact that you left without some sort of explanation. You broke my heart, but I still love you. Please, come home.

Yours,

Bess Warwick