Every Day

My love Abigail,

We first met back in grade school, you wearing a pretty pink frock, while I wore my cowboy hat and worn jeans, my boots scuffed from the daily chores. We were only eight, but I remember the day you came up to me and introduced yourself, that smile so wide it almost seemed like your face would split in two, your forest green eyes shining like emeralds in the sunlight. The two braids, a muddy brown colour, were set tightly down the sides of your head. You made it your mission to be friends, and I am profoundly grateful you did.

We turned twelve and started high school, the social normalities being forced upon us. You became obsessed with sewing and cooking while I was forced to learn the ways of running a farm and being able to fix the tractor when it needed maintenance. As much as I would have loved to learn how to cook, it just wasn’t allowed. We drifted apart, our tight friendship becoming looser, much to my dismay.

We turned fifteen and before I could ask you to the dance, Matthew beat me to it. I felt ashamed as I let you slip through my fingers, my heart breaking as I watched you wide smile, the one you reserved for me, was on display for him. My date picked up on my feelings and she understood, bless her kind soul, and told me I needed to let you know my love for you. As a fifteen-year-old, how was I supposed to tell you? It just didn’t seem like something I could do so easily.

We turned seventeen and graduated school, you with honors and me with a basic piece of meaningless paper. You smiled my way and all I could do was smile back, still unable to declare how I truly felt, still feel, for you. I found out through your best friend, Fallon, that you were headed to another state for a job, leaving behind our small town. It felt like it was too late to speak what my heart wanted to say, but your hand grasped mine and your smile for me crept across your face, your green eyes shining with unshed tears. Barry caught my eye and made sure we had a moment for us to speak. You said good luck out there champ, all I could do was wink back as you took a step back, pivoted gently, still gripping my hand tightly before you walked away, letting our hands drop. That was the last time I saw you.

Or so I thought.

We had turned twenty-one, I was still on the farm in that small town, horses and cattle filling the quiet with their whinnies and bellows, the sheep calling out to each other. My father was pushing for the age of taking less work around the farm, my mother still in her prime. My brothers and sister were out in the world, following their dreams, while my dream had left four years ago. I still pictured your face the last time I saw you. I have had relationships but none of them felt right. Footsteps crunched behind me as I was mucking out the stall. I stupidly assumed it was my brother coming to surprise me but, it was you. A cowboy hate perched on top of your brown plait, a plaid shirt covering your top half, tucked into a pair of jeans and scuffed boots encased your feet. Hey, was call I could muster in that moment, your green eyes dull for once. You said, I was wrong to leave. Confusion came across my face, eyebrows furrowed at what you said. Fallon had told you about how I was still stuck in our town, my future not looking so bright, and that was why you came back. At that moment, I let my heart take over my body, my hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against me as my mouth met yours, your hands on my shoulders as we let our hearts speak.

We turned thirty-five, married, with twins, living in a house just outside the city, allowing you to be a writer, our eight-year-old children knowing that their mother is a well-known author. As much as I miss the farm, being able to work in the mechanical shop has been the best decision of my life, my oldest brother taking over the farm was a better decision.

Every day I strive to make it up to you on taking so long to confess my love for you, my one regret is not biting the bullet and telling you earlier. We may be fifty now, our youth is but a distant memory, our children have grown up and moved out, your writing is still the best in the state. Every day, I bring you flowers for your garden. Every day, I make you laugh so I can see those forest green eyes of yours sparkle like emeralds. Every day, I brush your hair, now waist length with those greys that you don’t care about, making you feel beautiful. Every day, I run you a bath so when you get home, you can relax while I take care of dinner, the social normalities never bothering us in our home.

I write this letter to you, so you can be reminded every day that my love for you started when we were children, my heart yearned for you since we were fifteen, my admiration for you never left when we graduated.

You are my love, my light, my reason to get up every day. Our children, the work we do, the memories we have are all blessing I will never take for granted. We found our way back to each other and while I wish we had started earlier, I am forever grateful to have you on this adventure we call life.

Forever yours, in this life and the next,

Patrick.

My dearest Patrick,

I write this from after reading your own letter. My trip away had been hard on me, this time around, but I have so much to tell you when I’m home.

It pained me that you didn’t ask me to the dance at fifteen. As much as Matthew was a brilliant date, I wanted it to be you. When we met at eight, I knew there was something about you that was special, Mother could see it too, she knew that we would be best friends as children, and she had hoped we would continue the friendship while as adults. My father knew you were a hard-working teenager, but he was angry that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask me. He was disappointed when he saw Matthew at the door. I felt my heart break a little that night.

When we were seventeen and we were getting ready to say goodbye after the ceremony, I found you after looking for a while, Barry, and Fallon in the background as our eyes met, a smile made its’ way across my face as I approached you, gripping your hand in my own tightly, I thought I was digging my nails into your skin. I knew this was goodbye as I was leaving for the city the next day, tears pricking my eyes as I met yours again. I mumbled goodbye to you. As I stepped back, you winked, a smile playing on your face as I turned on my heels, still holding on tightly, wishing you would say stay. Alas, you didn’t, and I walked away, feeling like it was going to be the biggest mistake I ever make.

I was right.

I didn’t enjoy my job as much as I thought I would. The day before I turned twenty-one, I made the decision to come home and find you. I told my job that I needed some time off, and they gave me my entire leave, telling me I could come back early if need be. I set out to find you, meeting up with Fallon and Barry, who had started a relationship not long after we graduated. They told me you were still on the farm, working hard to make sure it stayed afloat. I knew that you didn’t need to prove anything to anyone; you have always shown just how prideful in your work you were. I found you in the stall, a pitchfork in hand with hay stuck in the prongs. A look of confusion swept across your face as I said Hey, a hat perched on my head, my plaid shirt tucked into my jeans. You believed it was because your future wasn’t looking so bright that I came back, but the truth is, I needed to see you again, to figure out my own love story. When your hands grabbed my hips and pulled me against your toned body, our lips meeting, the cliché sparks feeling not only was on my mouth, but my heart too.

When we had the children so late in life, I knew that they were all we needed to complete our family, and I am so grateful that you didn’t feel the need to have a big family either. My love, I know that my travels have felt long and distant, but they have helped to keep that spark alive. I appreciate the flowers for my garden, the baths, the home cooked dinners you do, all of it. You don’t need to keep on trying to make up for anything. My mother once said things happen for a reason, only time will let us begin the next step. She was right. It may have taken longer than it should have, but we have the sweetest memories together, both with and without the children.

I write this letter back to you, so you can relax and stop worrying so much. I love you, have since we were fifteen. That never wavered in the years we were apart if anything it helped to bring us together again.

You are my love, my light, my reason to get up every day too. I love you to the furthest point we can dream of.

Forever in your heart, in this life and the next,

Abigail.