Love Letter- Unread

26 March Summer 1940, half-past ten.

Beautiful Dorothy,

It indeed feels like a decade since you’ve last written back. Where are you, Dor? I miss you with all my heart. Don’t you know that?

I know we ended things off roughly a few days back, but I promise I mean no harm. Everything I said that day was just the intentions of a slipped tongue… I was mindless, Dor, and for that, I'm deeply sorry. What can I do for you to crawl back into my arms you called Heaven?

How about.. my place in the AM? I’ll bring your favorite mango shake and homemade sandwiches… You won't regret it, I promise. We’ll have a small picnic in the golden hours of the day… we will listen to the chirping of birds and the rustle of the trees, hell I might even play some quiet jazz — like the good times. The good old times, Dor, I want them back…

Please, Dorothy, write back to me. I'm starting to get worried.

I thought our futures would be promising, and I don't want it to end… It numbs my heart knowing that in due time, we’ll start to drift… I wanted to be the lighthouse to guide you through the choppy sea storms, but instead, we ride against the waves and lose sight of each other…

God damn, this is too melodramatic. But please, where are you? I need to see you,

don't forget I love you no matter what.

Much love, Charles

I wrote this letter of a man from the past, a man with strong desires to see a woman. However, this poem lacks context, which makes it flexible for a plethora of possible endings. Some might say they’ll find each other, and some might say the wife had gone missing or passed on. Some might say this could be an apology poem too.

I guess we’ll never know, because like the poem, love is indeed full of unpredictability.