All these romance story threads got me feeling some type of way. I'm actually a huge faggot for a good romance story, so here I go. Probably shortest of my short-stories - little under 1k words, but I felt like any more would drag it on. Formatting got all fucked up, but whatever. As always C&C is welcome.
The Email
Sitting at my computer desk, I re-read the email I just drafted up – wishing I would finally get a response to this one.
Dear Aria,
It’s been awhile since last I wrote to you and I’m sorry. Life has been terribly busy lately with Charlotte starting 1st grade this year. She’s actually been very excited to start ‘a number grade’ as she puts it. I’m not sure where she got this excitement about school because its not from my side! Nonetheless, we’re all doing good.
I finally got around to fixing up the house. Just re-painted the outside to a nice dark blue – you know, the one you liked so much. I wish I did it ages ago because it came out beautifully. I should’ve listened to you when you first said it. But you know me, stubborn as always. The garden out back is doing great. I got some tomatoes and corn growing right now and they seem to be doing alright. It’s a lot better than last year – I can tell you that much. Maybe I’ve finally got the hang of it! You were always the garden champion and I can only hope to be half as good as you.
The cursor on the screen at the bottom of the last line continuously blinks – reminding me I haven’t sent it yet. It feels as if my fingers have frozen as my mind races with the hundreds of sentences and stories I want to write, but I can’t – the words leaving my mind as soon as they enter it. It’s as if something is stopping me from typing what I want. It’s as if writing it down will somehow make it realer than it already is. I left go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding in and continue to write.
I’m trying my hardest here. I want to make you proud. There are so many days I wish to just give up and walk away, but I can’t. It wasn’t suppose to be like this. I wasn’t suppose to be raising a daughter all on my own. We were suppose to do that. I need you here with me and I yearn for the day I can see you again.
She’s just like you, you know that? Not only is she a spitting image of you, she’s got your same attitude. You should see the angry face she gets when I say no to dessert. She crinkles her nose the same way you did when I would annoy you or mess something up. Like remember that time I burned our Thanksgiving Turkey? Or the time I almost ruined your Mom’s surprise party? Oh man, you were PISSED and even though Charlotte has never seen you angry – she does a perfect copy of the face you made. It brings me joy and pain at the same time. Joy because she looks exactly like you, but pain because I’ll never be able to see you make that face again. I’ll never be able to see you next to our daughter. I only wish that you could see her now. You would be so proud of her. She decorates her room with all the paintings she’s done ( the good, the bad, and the ugly), but she’s proud of all her work. She got all her artsy stuff from you, I was never a good drawer or anything. Charlotte took up soccer too. Maybe she got that side from me? You were never one for competition. She actually scored a winning goal last weekend. I was so incredibly proud of her. I took her and her team out to dinner and got them whatever they wanted. Everyone was so happy for Charlotte and she got to take home the ball. She damn near made a shrine to the thing in her room! She’s such a passionate little girl and it’s the same passion you had for the garden. So full of life, so pure.
I want to do right by you. I wish I could just hear your voice one last time. The last voicemail you left me never made it over to my new phone. I damn near demolished the Apple store when it failed to transfer over. You would have been so embarrassed to see the scene I made in there. The last seven years have definitely taken a toll on me. I got to see our beautiful baby girl grow, but I also lost the love of my life. Not only the love of my life, but my best friend, my partner-in-crime, my home. I wake up every morning asking myself how would you react seeing us now. It keeps me motivated to continue to push through the struggle and just hope you look down on us and smile. I love you and miss you.
Yours Forever,
James
Seeing through teary eyes, I finish writing what my heart demanded I write. Without a second glance, I hit send – knowing that you will ever read it, but so desperately wishing you would respond. I turn off my computer and check in on Charlotte in her room down the hall. She’s peacefully sleeping. I wipe my tears as I enter and walk over to her. I check her breathing and give her a kiss on her head and whisper an ‘I love you’. I go back to our – my bedroom - and try to get some sleep as the clock strikes midnight, ending the day of our anniversary.
