Letters To My Husband
Tuesday February 19, 2008
I am sorry that I have not written before this. Well, I have written, but they’re tucked safely in the back of our wardrobe and they began long before you were my husband. The notebook is pink and on the hard cover is the word Love in a beautiful piece of handwriting that I am sad to say is not my own.
Why then am I writing here?
You told me that love letters were meant to be shared or they never really exist. You said they were meant to be revealed and enjoyed. So, I’m starting here with the revelations should you ever decide to visit. Even if it’s long after I’m dead, I hope you will visit and read. It is what I have wished for since the day I started blogging.
I am going to end now to join you in bed. After all, your arms around me in the still of the night is the only thing I really need at this ungodly hour. Never forget that I love you.
~yours~
Friday February 29, 2008
I don’t know if I ever thanked you properly for taking me to see P.S. I Love You. By now I know how much you hate anything even remotely close to a chick flick, but you did it for me anyway. When you held my hand and made me stay, when you insisted that I finish it no matter how much I’d cried in the first ten minutes, I couldn’t have possibly loved you more.
That night in the back of that theater I fell more in love with you than I ever thought possible. The way you wiped away my tears and slipped your arms around me as I cried is forever cemented in my memory. On the last day of my life the movies of my mind will play and there that one scene will be.
Like the main character of the movie, I’m so sorry that we never had a child together. Remember the time when we first got together before we knew about the cancer that we thought I might be pregnant? I wanted so badly to be. When I found out that I wasn’t and that I never would be my heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces. Until that moment I never even realized that I might have actually wanted a baby, your baby, growing inside of me.
I’m sorry we met so late. I’m sorry for all the missed opportunities and mistakes that happened. If I could go back, I’d wish for meeting you sooner…before the mistakes and before the things that happened that left us no alternatives. I’d wish for a child, the best of the two of us to live and breathe.
Right now, I simply love you. From your messy morning hair to the top of your manly man feet, it’s all about you. It’s your name that my heart whispers with each and every beat.
~yours~