Ugh
I don't really like thinking about me and love, I like to think of love through other people. I like making stories of other people who are in love, or imagining that I have it myself with a fictional person who is most definitely fictional... I have never been in love. There have been glimpses where I like someone but I have never been "in love" with them.
The letters written held feeling. Silent tears she realized she missed him.
Dear Lucy, I might not return to see your beautiful face again. You will never leave my mind. Sorry this letter is short, I just wanted to tell you I love you.
Your love, Richard
Lucy realized that although he was away, he wasn't forgotten. She saw him in the little things, the old truck he always worked on, or the tulips he planted for her last summer. He was her everything.
When she was younger she doubted the reality of love, and believed it to be a myth. How could she trust the power of love when she had never met her dad, Did he love her mom, Did he even love her? When she met Richard she finally understood what love is.
They met at the Stiner cafe. It was not love at first sight in fact they were as opposite as fire and ice. A blind date brought them together, and surprisingly from that day forward they were inseparable. Everyone in the town envied their genuine love. It was unexpected, and the draft took too many. They would write consistently, the small pile of letters that gathered in the little yellow basket gradually grew into thousands of words, and dozens of feelings. That was love.
The little wonder struck girl makes up a sappy story again about love. Somebody come in and cure her desire for love. Her heart is parched.
Sincerely, Paislee Jane
