Our Perfect Love Story

I sat there, looking at my letter for a long time, tears streaming constantly down my cheeks and onto my thighs. I got up eventually and went inside to get an envelope and ship off the letter to Noel. I couldn’t wait for his response, and as the days passed I grew more and more antsy. I waited everyday, jumping to run and get the mail. I was constantly disappointed in the outcome of those short runs down the front path.

I went out with my friends a couple of times, but it didn’t help get my mind off him like I hoped. I just made my friends annoyed with my far-off land in my head.

I was counting down the days until August when Noel would be coming down to visit, anticipating his arrival. I thought constantly about what we would do, and how it would feel. Emotional, I concluded.

The day I received his reply I had almost given up hope. Telling myself that it would come eventually. Just like everyday, I was sitting on the porch. A blanket wrapped around my legs, a mug in my hands. The mailman came up, smiled and waved at me. He put the mail in the box, laughing as I rose to my feet. He said something, but I wasn’t paying much attention.

I walked down the path, not expecting much this time. I opened the box, going through the routine of looking at the envelopes and packages. Looking for the familiar handwriting, memorized from the first letter.

When I saw it, my heart leaped in my chest. It’s beating rang in my ears and pulsed in my fingers. I walked slowly back to my spot on the porch, my fingers holding the letter tightly. As if it wasn’t real and if I didn’t hold on for dear life, it would turn to ash and fall through my fingertips.

I sank down on the steps, tearing it open. Remembering the feeling I had last time I finished reading his letter, I tried to read slower. I read each word, trying to force them to sink into my skin, to burn the letters of each word onto my brain.

August 1st, 1996
Cara-
I still miss you all the time, and I don’t think I won’t until I visit you later this month. Only 13 more days, until I can hold you in my arms again. Feel your warmth. Hear your heart, and fall asleep to it’s beat.
Man, Its so funny. I’m sitting at my desk, trying to make this letter sound as good as possible, to put what’s in my head on this piece of paper and still have it make sense. I don’t think you understand the conflict going on inside of me. Or maybe you do.
Baby, I feel scared. I don’t want to feel this way anymore, it hurts so much. And I don’t like it. I don’t like the feeling that I feel like I’m making you feel guilty if you don’t want to go to Monterrey, but then its all I want most right now. Aside from you sitting beside me, joking and laughing.
When I lay in my bed at night, I think about what it’s like to have you next to me. I laugh, remembering our little camp out. And then I feel so much sadness because I want things to be that way again.
I wake up every morning, and I go through the motions of my day but not once does your face, your eyes, or your beautiful voice leave my mind. I think and I think. I think about what it was like when your legs were wrapped around my waist, and I was holding you in my arms that day we walked into the ocean. And not all of those thoughts were appropriate either, just know that. I think about our adventures, or us just holding hands walking around the town. I almost feel your fingers intertwined with mine, and it almost makes me cry. The only thing keeping me sane, are your letters and the thoughts of us being together again.
I miss you so much,
Noel.