As Harry and I walked out of the support group for the final time, I felt the strangest sense of peace. My body still ached with sudden movements, but my heart felt lighter than it had since I was five years old.
We said goodbye to the rest of the group, vowing to meet up again soon, and walked together toward Central Park.
“How come you didn’t tell me you were going to do that today,” Harry asked softly, his finger brushing the back of my hand as we walked.
“I only decided yesterday. I wanted to share some of the more inspirational thoughts I had had. They have really helped me, and I thought they could help everyone else,” I replied. “It has been insanely cathartic writing all of this down,” I added with a laugh.
“I’m not at all surprised it was cathartic, Lilly. You have an eye for the written word, and I can’t wait to see what you do with that talent. I would also recommend going through some of your old letters. I think you might find some inspiration there,” he replied with a cheeky smile.
I smiled, squeezed his hand, and kept walking by his side.
The sun was burning hot in the early afternoon sky as we sat down on a park bench in the crowded Central Park.
I looked up and smiled at two birds flying playfully around one another. In an instant, I remembered a string of words from one of the unpublished books I had read before all of this began: “In the darkest part of the night, you are where I find my light.”
*
When I arrived home later that day, I pulled out my laptop and opened my manuscript, taking a moment to read over what I had written so far. I looked across my room to the box of old letters that still sat half-opened near my closet. Placing my laptop on my bed, I moved toward the box and shuffled through the filed letters until I found one in a brown envelope. Every letter had been written on white paper, which I folded or placed in a white envelope. I don’t remember ever using a brown envelope. I picked it up and opened it. The writing inside was not my own. My heart stopped as I read the first line.
Dear Lilly,
You are going to hate me for reading these. I know that, but once I started, I just couldn’t stop. I am writing this in the hope that one day in the future you will be reading through your old letters, and amongst all the negativity and darkness you have created with your beautiful mind, you might find a little bit of light. I hope that when that day comes, that I am not a long-lost memory. I hope you will read this and smile before calling me up so we can laugh about it together.
As I write this, you are on a plane on your way to Jamaica. Your audacity both humours me and scares the living hell out of me. You said you wanted to run away from it all. I just didn’t believe you would do it. There are a million things I wish I could say to you out loud, but as the old expression goes “writing is closer to thinking than speaking”, so here goes nothing. First and foremost, I want to say that I am sorry – it was beyond wrong of me to tear down your dreams and try to replace them with my own harsh reality. I want you to know that I will never, in my wildest dreams, even consider doing that to you again.
In your letters you call yourself weak, but when I look at you, I see one of the strongest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You call yourself stupid, but you think in a way that proves exactly the opposite. You act like you have not found your calling in life, and all the while you are using your calling to express this very notion. You are so beautiful. There are not enough words in the English language to describe all the ways you shine. I just wish you could see yourself in the same way that I see you. If you could, maybe you would realise just how perfect you are. Maybe you would see that behind all the fear and insecurity is a gorgeous, young, talented woman desperate to break out into the world.
I want to tell you that when I leave you at the end of each day, I miss you and spend hours thinking of all the things we could do together. I want to tell you that knowing you have run away to find solace rather than running to me leaves a hole right in the centre of my heart. But most of all, I want to tell you that even after only a few short days, I love you more than life itself. I never understood how people said, “I have loved you all my life” when they had only known each other for a few short moments. I understand now – true love is the kind of love you slip into so subtly you almost don’t notice it’s happening. In these rare moments, you truly feel like you have loved them all your life, and you, my dear, are that kind of love. I have loved you all my life and will love you every day until I leave it.
I am coming to find you. Though by the time you read this letter, you will probably already know that. I pray that when we meet, you don’t push me away but let me stay by your side as you come to realise just how brilliant you truly are.
I leave you with a quote from one of the many books on your bookshelf: “Thinking back on it, it’s hard to imagine a time when I wasn’t hopelessly in love with you.”
I will see you soon, my love, where the sky meets the sea.
Yours forever,
Harry
By the time I finished reading, tears were streaming down my face, and I didn’t have any hope in the world of stopping them. I stood up and ran to get my phone from my bed. I unlocked it and dialled his number without a second thought. I knew he was at work this afternoon but prayed that he would answer.
“Did you find it?”
“I love you so much,” I replied.
“I love you under stars and on sandy white beaches,” said Harry, “but I also love you in dusty storage rooms, hospital beds and trapped under the rubble of falling buildings,” he replied softly. “But I am at work, so I really do have to go. I love you so much. Never doubt yourself, ok?” he added before quickly hanging up his phone.
I moved back toward my desk and looked down at the letter with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart that spread through my entire body. Silently, I picked up a stick of blue tac off the desk and stuck the letter onto my bedroom wall beside a photo of the two of us rowing boats in Central Park.