Love Letter | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Love Letter | Previous Challenge Entry
By Yvette R
08/28/08
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Dear Hannah,

There are no words to write what’s in my heart. I cannot tell you of my joy and grief and longing, but know, dear heart, that I have always loved you.

I loved the sweet fragility of your smile, the lift and curl of your hair in the summer breeze, the way your eyes lit up at the sparrows in the garden or the morn-light on the dew. I have memorized your face: each gentle curve and angle, each near-invisible freckle, each touch of smooth skin. You are forever imprinted in my heart.

You carried with you the smell of roses, fresh and innocent in the garden of youth, the light scent of the ocean when night embraces us with moonlight, the fragrance of forgotten flowers that drifts across this lonely hill. Your voice was my songbird: my nightingale and morning lark, my sunrise and sunset. Even now, you are my symphony, my harmony, my soft sweet interlude: the music of my life.

I have been the harp on which you have played your sweetest and your saddest tunes, drawing from me mournful sighs and merry laughter in equal parts. I have been your repository of secrets and tears, the vault in which you hid your deepest dreams, the column of advice you leaned upon so heavily, and read so desperately for words of wisdom. But I never knew I was your love.

I never saw within your eyes that secret spark which would ignite the courage to share my heart with you. There was no tender touch, so brief yet eloquent enough for me to know that I could take your hand in mine. No lovely longing ever lit the shyness of your smile and tempted me to taste one little kiss. I waited, sweet Hannah, for your love to grow; and silently I walked beside you as your confidante and friend, watching the seasons pass and time grow old. Oh, how I wish that I had known then what your secret diary has told me today.

Now night is falling fast, and the moon is soft and pale, and I will soon be setting sail to be with you. I am old now, dear Hannah, older than you will ever be, but perhaps it is not too late to tell you of my love. So I am writing you this letter that I know you cannot read, and tucking it beneath the roses on your grave.

I have been a patient man, my Love, but I have waited longer than long enough, and eternity without you is more than I can bear. So this letter is to remind you of what you told me so long ago, that marriage should always be a Heavenly affair.

Forever yours,
Joseph

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