Prompt No. 24 : Unsent Love Letter

Dear Kate,

I don't really know what compelled me to write this letter. Or maybe I do. I drove past your favorite tree the other day. Do you remember that huge oak tree in your park? You used to spend hours there, reading books. And I would spend hours just sitting next to you, watching you read. We didn't even have to talk, all I cared about was being with you.

We have not seen one another in years. Specifically, 10 years and 8 days. That was the last time I set eyes on you. The date was May 24th. We were saying goodbye and I let you walk out of my life forever.

I wanted to run after you as you turned away that afternoon. Holding your graduation cap in one hand and your diploma in the other. I wanted to grab your shoulders and gently turn you around, plant my lips on yours and tell you I would follow you wherever you went.

Except I didn't. I did not do any one of those things. I simply held it all in and let you go. To be honest, I am still uncertain why.

You were perfectly imperfect. Always with a book tucked into your handbag. Your dark hair piled up top, messy strands falling everywhere. I used to watch you pull your hair down, falling in cascades down your back. The scent of your shampoo filling the air around me. Sweet and floral. What was it called again?

You had this half smile. I could never tell if you were laughing at me or with me. But it didn't matter. I loved you anyway. Your eyes would crinkle on the sides as you tilted your head sideways and slightly giggled at the things I said. I felt like you could read my every thought. Could you?

I remember spending hours just talking. About music, and movies and friendships and life. I wanted to be on your level. Prove to you I was worthy of your time and intelligence. I read more books that year than any other year of my life. Only because I wanted you to think I was smart.

I could never get over the fact that you chose me out of everyone. I was the lucky one.

And I let you go.

Like I said, I'm not really sure why I'm writing this. I don't even know where you are now. Or where I could even send this to reach you.

But I'm thinking of you.

- John