Letters

Dear Ornela,

I have spent today reading through your old love letters. Beneath my bed I keep a cardboard box filled with every letter you have ever written me and every card you have ever sent. Sometimes, when the weight of the world becomes too heavy upon my shoulders, I will retrieve these letters and just read them, letting my eyes linger over each word that you lovingly crafted.

There is another set of your letters that I read too. These are more recent, less loving. I read them to see just how much things have changed between us and how our three year separation changed not only our relationship but also our very souls on some fundamental level. We're both colder now, our personalities scarred by the trials of life and those we have inflicted upon each other. One of your letters has always been the most difficult for me to read, for it was the letter where I first realized I had lost you. You sent me this letter on March 20th of this year, and though I will omit the most painful parts both to spare myself the grief and protect your privacy, an excerpt is as follows:  

I put my life on hold for you for so long and finally decided it would do me no good. I had no clue, no idea whatsoever that you would change your mind yet again so I should wait, wait for however long it would take for you to come back to me. Sometimes life isn't as simple as yes or no, as black or white. If it were we would be together now, no questions asked, because at the end of the day we love one another and that should be enough.

When I read this letter I knew that you had changed. I knew that you were not the same girl I once knew because for the first time in my life you were rejecting me...completely rejecting me. What was curious about this letter was that although you were rejecting me, you admitted that you still love me. I never understood this...and, like so many other demons you are battling, it was something that you never decided to share with me. You said that "at the end of the day we love one another and that should be enough." It was...it was always enough for me Ornela.

I wish I knew what has been troubling you for so long. I wish that you would share your burdens with me so that I could help make them lighter. I just wish you would let me help you. When I saw you in Boston you were so much colder than I ever remembered, as if you had built enormous walls around your heart to protect it from ever being hurt again. It was difficult for me to see you like this because I knew that you were hurting...I just didn't know why.

You told me that things felt different this time, that you never felt the deep connection we once had. Ornela, I love you enough to tell you the truth. The reason things feel different is because from the time you sent me your reconciliation letter back in June until now, you have never opened your heart to me. You asked me back into your life, but not into your heart. That is why I kept asking you so many questions during our time together. I was trying to break down the walls that you have built to protect yourself so that our souls might be bound together as they once were. I know that my questions hurt, but I was only trying to find the girl I once knew who has hidden herself away. She is still there, and I want to love her more than anything in the world.

So many letters...so many letters we have written each other over the years. Each one I write is like giving you a piece of my soul, a small portion of the raw love and devotion I have for you. Each letter I write you is an act of love, but also one of pain as I have to tear open my heart every time to find the words hidden away within. Yet I do this anyway. I do this because maybe somewhere in my heart I can find the words that you need to hear, the words that may yet bring us together again...and the words that will erase your burdens and make you happy again.

I write these letters to try to make you happy. I write these letters because it is all I have left to give.

Love,

Bobby