Love letters through time

November 12, 1943

My Dearest Eleanor,

I have sat down to sit and write this letter a hundred times and, each time, I came up short, my heart overflowing with words I could not quite find. But tonight, here I sit with the soft buzzing of crickets that blow through my window and with the moon pouring its soft light upon my desk, I am compelled to write to you here and speak every word my heart has carried with me since meeting you.

Do you remember that summer in Seabrook? The sun glinting on the water, and the wind rustling through the Spanish moss hanging over the oaks? I remember it like it was yesterday. You were a vision then, and you're still a vision now—lovelier than the stars lighting up the dark night. I knew my life would never be the same the moment I set eyes on you.

We were young, careless, and absolutely deeply in love. Each passing second that we spent together was one I treasured. There was excitement and laughter by the day—paddling up and down the river, swaying under the night sky, and speculating what the future would be like for us. And the nights? Swept with stolen kisses and secret promises and the gentle hold of your hand around mine. You brought colors into my life, Allie, and after you left, all the things went gray.

I wrote to you every day after you'd gone, with every ounce of my heart in each letter, hoping somehow my letters would find you and remind you of us. But when no answer came back, the worst seemed probable—that you'd left me, that you'd forgotten the boy who loved you more than life. But in the silence, I never stopped loving you.

Years passed, but your memory remained with me. I tried to build a life, to be satisfied with the small things—a house by the water, the steady rhythm of hard work. But there was always something missing, and that something was you. And then you returned. When I saw you once more, standing on my porch with your unsure smile, my heart saw what my head had been struggling to tell it: I never stopped loving you.

Seeing you again was both a pain and a pleasure. Every glance, every touch stirred memories of what we had and what was lost. And yet, our time apart had not dampened the fire between us. It blazed as never before, searing me with hope and terror. I knew that you were another man's and I admired the existence you had built. But my heart would not be quieted.

When we spent those precious days together, time did not appear to have gone by. We fell back into the rhythm of our love with ease, and for the first time in years, I felt whole. You shared with me your hopes and your terrors, and I listened, keeping each word tight within my heart. I desperately wished you would choose me, but I understood that it had to be your decision.

And you left again. The house was emptier than ever without you, and I was convinced that it was finally the end this time. But my love for you, Allie, is eternal. Near or far, in life or death, you will have the key to my heart.

Therefore I am writing this letter not to beg, not to plead, but to share with you the truth that has been my constant friend: I love you. I loved you from the moment I met you, and I will love you until my last breath. If you choose to live your life without me, I will understand. But be warned that my love will never fade.

With all my love,

William

November 20, 1943

My dearest William,

Your letter arrived as the sun set below the horizon, tinting the sky with hues of gold and red — colors so reminiscent of Seabrook and those warm summers spent there. My hands shook as I opened the envelope, and my heart pounded at every word your hand had written. It was like time had not moved at all, and I heard your voice in every line, felt the caress of your hand in every word.

I recall Seabrook vividly — the shining water, the rustling moss, and the sound of your laughter on the wind. Those were the best days of my life, days of hope and happiness. And you, William, were at the heart of it. The manner in which you gazed at me, as if I was the sole individual in the world, left me feeling precious beyond words. I was extremely young at that time, yet my devotion toward you was genuine and intense — and it never, ever wavered.

When I departed, my heart broke.". I never planned to be so long away, but life has a way of taking you somewhere else. I wrote to you as well — countless letters never delivered to your hands. I would sit in my window seat, much the same as you wrote in your letter, and spill my heart onto paper with the hope beyond hope that you would sense the love I held for you even then. But there was silence after that, and I was afraid the worst had happened — you had moved on, you had forgotten me. It was a pain I lived with every day.

And yet, when I saw you once more, all those years disappeared. On your porch, with my heart in my throat and tears pricking at my eyes, I knew — I had never lost you. Every word you said, every soft caress, brought back what we had and what we might still have. But the decision was not so easy. Life had become complicated, and my heart was caught between duty and desire.

Those days we shared were like a dream — a lovely, ephemeral dream that I did not wish to awaken from. You brought me back to life, William, and in your arms, I discovered a home I had long forgotten. But reality hung over us, and when I departed, I was afraid it would be for the last time.

But your letter — your lovely, moving letter — has filled me with hope. You have always held my heart, and no time or distance can erase that. I can make no promises of what the future may bring, but this I can promise: my love for you is as strong and real as ever. If you will have me, I will make my way back to you. And if life keeps us apart, know that my heart will remain yours until my last breath.

With all my love,

Eleanor