by Towne, L. E.
Ross’s Letter
Dear Azure,
Forgive me for interrupting your life with this. I don’t normally write letters—not real ones, especially not letters professing some undying love or something. It’s just not me. I live in the real world, the practical, the physical. The go to work, pay bills, shut up and be happy world. That was the plan. Then you came along and obliterated everything I thought I knew.
It seems like everything about you is burned into my brain. I remember your strong, cool hand in mine, your punk rocker haircut, your eyes most of all, not the color, but the way they laughed at the world around you.
That first day, in St. Louis—it was summer and hot, and you were stunning. There is no other word for it. I have the thesaurus right here and stunning is the word. A guy like me needs a dictionary and a thesaurus to do this right and I really want to do this right.
You were different from the start. How you looked, how you talked—our conversation in the cab. And then, when I noticed your ring, I was surprised at how disappointed I felt. I knew there was no possibility, yet, that hopefulness came back every time I saw you. It’s hard to describe. It’s like the feeling you get when something you’ve been trying to explain to someone for ages finally clicks in their head. It’s like coming home from a long, long road trip.
It was a great feeling—that hope—magnificent even and wrong. Totally wrong. I pushed it aside, I tried. I really, really tried to forget how I felt and just be your friend. We both know how well that didn’t work out. Yet I can’t say that I regret a single second of it.
Throughout that year of getting to know you, each encounter brought more questions than answers. How does a guy change course in the middle of his life without affecting everyone around him? How selfish can someone be to chart solely for their own happiness? Because, God knows, I wanted to.
I should have acted on that desire, should have spoken up, fought for you. It’s very possibly too late now. I can say that I am content. It’s a good life, if not a great one, full and wondrous and not just because of my family or my career, but because of you. Because of us. I’ve tried to be content living my life in the moments that we had. The ones where the world went away and we were just us, you and me. I feel like in those moments, we were perfect.
But, life is more than tiny moments strung together. There aren’t enough of them. A thousand years with you would leave me wanting. And we haven’t even started yet. See, I’m still clinging to that hope.
There have been good times, though we are apart, I’m not saying that. Times even that I thought I was over you, that I could make it in the happy, normal life I constructed, but as good as my current life is, I’m not sure it is the right one.
I’ve tried to make it the best life I could possibly have and sometimes, it is—where the memory of you can be shelved somewhere in the background of my mind. But it is always there, nonetheless. I still have the note that you left me. But that was it, you left me. Left with visions of you burned into my brain. Your eyes, your hair—the way you smelled of clean linen and vanilla ice cream.
You were always the stronger of us. I thought it was because you had chosen—him over me, and that hurt. I may have come along second, but I can’t ever believe I was a second choice. My heart tells me not to. But at that time what else could I think? I know you thought you were doing the right thing. How egotistical am I for presuming to know what makes you happy? To do so would be foolish and I am a foolish man, because I now know that we could be happy together. If I were wiser, I would have known this from the moment we met. Forgive my stupidity; I’m sure it won’t be the last time and perhaps someday in the future you will come to love all of my frailties as I love yours. I can only hope. And there it is again, that hope. Like your name, your essence, hope is now a part of me.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep at night, the only thing that gives me comfort is thinking of you happy in your life. Please be happy, be happy enough for both of us. The only thing I cannot bear is your sadness.
Perhaps, now that I have said all this, now that the words are out there, words I never had the courage to say before, the emptiness I feel inside will fade.
My future is uncertain, and you know that’s hard for me to admit. So it’s down to this letter, a few carefully chosen words that sum up a life. Two lives, really. It’s been months, almost a year since I’ve seen you, and the pain seems just as sharp today as the day we parted. It hasn’t ebbed, or faded or even become bearable. I see now, what I failed to see then. I understand your sadness that day, perhaps all the days after. Your desolation has become mine.
I no longer want to live my life just going through the motions. I can’t do it anymore. You changed me forever. I’ve learned that life should not be not measured in years spent in flesh and bone wandering the earth, but valued by our capacity to love, to hope with clarity, and live with purpose.
With all my love, and hopes, and dreams,
Ross
Hope you enjoyed Ross and Azure’s story. Reviews are golden to me, so please take a minute to leave one.
Also, look for the next installment in my Urban Hearts Series: Where Truth Lies. Ross’s best friend, Jack Isaacson meets his match and the love of his life, Sienna Mack, a girl with a secret in her past.