the letter


I turned it over and over, not sure if I should even open it.  So much time had passed. The hurt, the sorrow, the rage had been gone for a long time.

My first thoughts were just to throw it in the trash but then I decided to burn it. Screw her! Why now, after so many years. I had purged my body, my mind, my sole of her memory and what she had meant to me. She can't come back now!

I went to the candle drawer for a match. A ritual...a ritual of fire...on the patio...I'll dance around it and scream voo-doo curses while it burns.

But, the candles brought back memories...our time together..the nights..the walks on the beach...the smell of her skin...her body...her moans...the devils look in her brown eyes when she teased me.

I  thought about her. I slapped the letter against the table...again and again...why now?...what does she want now?...after so many years...I have another life... a wife..two beautiful children...two grandchildren...

I looked at my name and her writing...so crisp but delicate...the return address...the postmark...

...and I realized the letter had been sent thirty years earlier...when we were lovers...when she disappeared...

The "Dear John" she had never sent?...Lost by the stupid post office. Why didn't they just forget it? Why deliver it now?

Should I open it? Could I open it?

I had to think. I laid the letter on the table and went to the shower. The hot water always made me think better.

I couldn't shower...I knew I had to open it...to read it...to know why...

"Dear George

I tried to call you but you and your damn hunting trip with no interruptions..."

My trip with the guys...two weeks...hunting...no women...no phones...no interruptions...now it comes back...she was gone when I returned...mad a bout my time with the guys (I thought)...mad about some space for me (I thought)...

"...I left a note o n your door but i am sending this letter to make sure you know where I have gone and why.

My mother is dying of cancer and I am the only one she has to be with her in her final days. I have no idea how long I will be gone but her is her phone number and address...

...Please call me when you get home.

I love you so much and it will be hard to be away from you.

Jennifer"

The hunting trip...my refusal to buy an answer phone...but why wouldn't she at least call or write again...

It wasn't her it was me...but what happened?

I called the number and wasn't surprised to hear that it had been disconnected. I google the town for a paper and found a monthly farm letter. I called the editor.

She was very pleasant but had never heard of Jennifer or her mother but maybe her father had.  She would have him call me.

The next day he called and asked me if I was relative?

"No," I replied. "I'm just an old friend."

"Then you never heard?"

"Heard what?"

"It was a tragic story. Jennifer was driving back to be with her dying mother and she was killed just two miles from her mother's home when a big big semi strayed across the center line. She never had a chance."

I didn't know what to say. "Thanks" was all that came from my mouth as I hung up the phone.

I read the letter again and then again and then again...my tears falling on here delicate writimg...

                                                                              written by gsbatty for "Theme Thursday"/July2013




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10 comments:

  1. This is so emotional. It kept me hooked to the story. nice one.

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  2. frig man...you got me...
    just when the hope rushed in...
    it was snuffed...well writ man...
    moving...

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  3. My eyes are full of tears right now. Is this a true story? If so it is very sad to think of what could have been different in there lives. But maybe this was also what was meant to be. I am sure that stories like this have happened to many people over the years. Just one lost letter and so many things could have happened. Good thing we can just text or email each other now.

    Thanks for sharing this story with this weeks Theme Thursday, although I am missing my skorts stories. Hope your weekend is full of love letters.

    God bless.

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  4. "But, the candles brought back memories...our time together..the nights..the walks on the beach...the smell of her skin...her body...her moans...the devils look in her brown eyes when she teased me." This paragraph was so beautiful and really embodies to me the longing and sweetness of nostalgia. Oh this is just heart-breaking Grizz brought tears to me eyes wow powerful writing. I love it definitely not a failure, this is beautiful and tragic its fantastic.

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  5. What a tale, romantic and tragic! Well written with great control of tone and if this is a true story, my sincerest regrets. Never the less, fabulous writing.

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  6. i like this, a demonstration of how we hurt ourselves by clinging to anger. well written.

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  7. So beautiful and wrought with emotion.

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  8. To open or not to open. To read or not to read. A very hard choice especially if you are happy with what and whom you are with at the moment .....

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    1. I agree but the thought of not knowing...the chance to find out...even if your are happy (as my character was) ...the desire to know and then the sorrow would be a normal event

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