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25 Letters


A small strands of my sun struck hazelnut hair are held between my pale fingers as ripples of tears stain my rosy cheeks. Little heartsick bumps form on my pale skin from the low degrees that fight the comfort of warmth. I sit on my unmade bed,  drowning myself in the white bed sheets that drag his smell and force me to breath him even though he is no longer here. I look through the open door that is shaded with no sun to light it up, it’s to early for anyone to be awoken yet. I squint my eyes to blur my vision like I did when I was nothing but the innocence of an untouched child. Through the same fiery black dots and long wet eyelashes that I saw when I was a youngster that couldn’t even hold the weight of my head with my bony arms, I see him. I see Conor.  


My heart pounds recklessly on my chest, as tides of time pulsing wash over me. I place one of my novel hands on my chest to convince my mind that i’m slowing my wrecked heartbeat. My small hand isn’t mine if it doesn’t have his rough and masculine hand to hide inside of.  My head vibrates with flashes of our past and I get up. A swarm of bitter water covers my whole shaking body and I can feeling the pain siding next to my weak bones. I go close to him to look into his wondrous eyes just like I once did, I fight the pain and I tell myself I won’t allow it to take hold of me. I get as close as I can to him but I almost fall when I see the delicacy of his perfect face. I back off a little in fear of losing him again.

“Connor?” I say as shy as I was when I first spoke to him. I get no response, just the enchanting lyrics of the song he wrote to me that he is now playing with his caramel guitar. An average size wooden piece that was given to him in hopes of his singing career to become real.

“Connor?!” I scream this time. Connor stays seated on a black stool. He holds the guitar in his position. He still has that striking look on his face that has always made my heart ache for him even till this day. The green trees in his blue eyes look down at the guitar as if it were a marvel and he was meant to play that marvel. I leave all of my fear behind and go so close to him, as close to touch his gold hair.

“Connor! I’m talking to you!” I shout. No response just the repetitive tone of his music.

“Why did you do that to me?” Through teary eyes I touch his arm and I can almost feel his tanned warm skin react to my touch, except he doesn’t move a breath. It hurts me.

“Why Connor? Why. I’ve always loved you. Couldn’t you have told me that you were going to die….That…… had cancer. Why…..didn’t you take the treatment? Why did you have to leave me alone? Especially that you know i’m made entirely of fear. Why?” I say to the figure I see behind of me that defines my dead husband. Back then when I was down, my hands would ache for a thin paintbrush but now they ache for his hands to keep me from falling. Tears conquer my let down eyes and I allow them to drown my vision.

“CONNOR!!!!” I shout scaring nothing else but myself.

He looks up but it’s not because of me, it’s because of my ghost Ely. Ghost Connor picks up ghost Ely by the waist and kisses her innocent lips. I can almost feel his pleasing kiss against my un ghostly lips. Connor and Ely stay like this for awhile now enjoying every bit of themselves, memorizing each others soft lips so that they could never forget how it felt to be with the person you loved. I feel like crying but I have no more tears to run through me. Millions of wasted tears now dry on my limp cheeks as I look at my past standing within my reach. They stop for a while to come back for some air, and he puts her down ever so sweetly. The hold each others tightly and hug once more. She walks away and he stares at her until she’s not visible like as if she was the one for him. He loved her so much. He walks back into the stool and a sum of tears fill my small golden eyes. I miss him so much. The music continues but in a different way. It’s sadder this time. I look into his eyes while he has his loving eyes on something else that will never be me again.


“What else do you want from me, Connor?” I ask him while I slowly breaking apart.

I woke up today not wanting to say goodbye once again. I woke up today hoping Connor would be next to me if quietly rolled to his side and fell in his arms, but all that was their was his strong cologne and the portrait of his body. My soul has broken in a millions of pieces because of him leaving me every morning. I watch him tiptoe out of the room and into heaven every morning when I awake. Now that he has left why couldn’t he have taken my whole life with him. In a few minutes he will leave me again like every morning. I will shout to him every day until I die. I wish one day I could wake up to the sun peeking through my peach curtains, I could wake up without him. He would have left me earlier when I was sound asleep. He walked in silence so I won’t hear his voice because he knows it hurts me. He walked slowly so that I wouldn't feel his footsteps in my pounding head, reaching for heaven. At the same time I don’t want to forget him ever even if I’ve already lost him.

“Would you just leave already?” I cry.

He looks up. Into my eyes as if heard me from up there.

“Leave.” I repeat knowing i can’t face life without him.

He walks up to me and the way he moves his arm and legs when he walks forward reminds me of the olden times and I fall. He puts his hand in mine and helps me up. The soft warmth of his touch comfort me and I face him and look up into his sunshine eyes. He comes close to kiss my wet lips and once our foreign lips touch I fall in love once again. I miss him even more. I allow his lips to calm me down but once I open my bloodshot eyes he is no longer there. He left me. Tears fill my eyes once again and I support my body weight on the wall in a position that won’t feel like millions of needles pricking my blood vessels.

“No!” I shout to the drying air.

The cold air craves my body once again and I stand up with all the pain bringing me down but I stand straight even if it hurts so much. I run out of my bedroom. I speed through the halls trying to avoid all the painting of me and Connor that I made as copies of the pictures he had taken in the nine years we had shared  together. I walk into my art room and set the paint brushes. I go into the storage closet for some paint and find a pile of thick envelopes on top a peach color bucket. I grab the bucket and the envelopes. I sit on a stool in front my painting board and rip open the envelopes. It read Open when you miss me, El. -Connor

Dear Ely,

I know you’re missing me right now, I’m sorry. I’m especially sorry if I’m the one who made you feel that way. I will never forget you. I will never forget you, I can promise you that. I'm sorry that I didn’t tell you I was near the end. I wanted for us to be happy until my end, even if inside I wasn’t. But please don’t think about me too much. I don’t know where I’ll end up after I die but I want you to know that I want you to be happy wherever you are. I want you to find someone new. Please don’t be sad that my life was taken from me too early because it really wasn’t. Maybe god’s plan for me was different. Maybe I was supposed to leave early. My time has run out but yours hasn’t I want you to know that. I’m sure you will find someone who will pick you up again. Please don’t miss me El. I love you so much. But don’t see the world through negative eyes now. Please don’t. -”

I put the letter down and grab a paintbrush. I dip it in the oceans of varied color paints. The brush dances on top of the white frame and I allow my mind to paint the way I used to. The freezing air has left me because he’s here with me now. I can feel him standing behind at me. I remember when we first met and everything after that how it was all a dream come true from their.  I found the man of my life and when it’s time I will return to him, but I still have more to paint and more to see. In the night I will go to sleep in his arms. I won’t fear losing him again. I won’t ever forget him because I have the twenty five letters he wrote to me days before his death with his wondrous eyes looking at each and every word.

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