I have always thought that if someone had begun to fall for me
that I would know, even if we were a million miles apart, I would know, I would
sense it; I’d feel it in my bones. Three days before Christmas I received a
letter in the mail, as soon as the mail man had posted it through the diminutive
rectangular hole that was carved and cut into my front door I awoke and fascinatingly
staggered directly out of bed, it was outlandish because I usually enjoy
twisting and turning in my divan, allowing the warmth of the soft duvet to
embrace my almost unadorned flesh, but today I had no intention of enjoying
such pleasure, it had felt as if I was not in control of my own two feet. Feeling
as if I had been drinking gallons the night previous, trying to piece the
puzzle back together to figure out if I had been drinking, if this was a
hangover, the feet that had developed a mind of their own had lead me to my
front door. That was when I saw it. My heart began to sink. My knees weakened.
The handwriting, I could have sworn I had seen it somewhere before, my
well-known ‘bad memory’ began to cloud my brain with flashbacks of the past;
the life I led, the love I gave, the hurt I felt, the strength I gained, the
hope I lost, the confidence I hadn’t, the moments I missed, the days when I
longed to once again be kissed. It was becoming too much to soak up into my
already saturated mind at five thirty a.m., being the time of day it had been I
couldn’t even remember what the date was.
As I leaned in to pick it up, bending double, tears streaming down
my face forming a waterfall. Finally with the golden envelope in my fragile
hands, I noticed the ink used looked similar to that of the one in the pen I
had been given five years ago to fill in my ex’s birthday card (of course I
no-longer have that particular pen but I remembered the ink from that moment in
time when everything seemed so sweet in my bitterly naive mind, because its
colour was intriguing.) I made my way into the kitchen and turned on my kettle,
I loved the sound of boiling water first thing in the morning; but not knowing
the content of the letter just caused it to frustrate me further as I held it
above the kettle so that the water vapor would cause the enclosed envelope to
release the note that lay comfortably within. I watched as the covalent bonds
of the glue that sealed it shut began to break. Once it had fully opened I
gently battered the not out of the envelope much like little kids batter their
presents trying to get through to the object(s) inside the wrapping paper. The
only difference is I am not a kid and Christmas has not yet blossomed its
unready flower into this world. I picked up my glasses which I had left on the
counter the night previous and put them on. The letter read…
Dearest,
Romeo
and Juliet were not in love, they were obsessed with one another. Love takes
time to develop, and ‘love’ at first sight isn’t love, it is merely lust and
nothing more, but could be less than even that. To love someone comes
naturally, like a baby adapting to its mother at first sight. But to fall in
love is different.
The letter Friar Lawrence wrote to
Romeo was nothing other than the words of Juliet when she declared her feelings
for him in so many words, the letter she wrote stated:
when you were here
I smiled without smiling
I laughed without laughing
my eyes spoke without my mouth opening
all because you were there to understand
to my island you became the land
now you’re gone
nothing is the same
My heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sound of her voice calling my name
never has, never will
because the truth is I love you
still
I fear I may be too late in telling you
I shouldn’t have waited for so long
you’re gone
smiling no longer feels like smiling
when you were here sleeping wasn’t something I wanted to do
I would lay there just thinking of you
but now without you here life is just a drag
here killing me now is the pain
the pain of knowing I played and lost out on our little love game
maybe I shouldn’t have played a round in your game of win or lose
I just wish without hiding that I could freely be with you.
This letter he never received.
I am not writing you the letter Romeo wanted to send to Juliet but
never got the chance to. I understand you may not know who I am right now and
that’s okay but I just want you to know you can always depend on me to be the
shoulder you can lean on, the poet to the heart break and the love to mend big
heart. I’ll be the one who will be with you for life if you just give me the
chance to. It took me a long time to build up enough confidence to be able to
tell you and even now it’s not to your face but at least you will know that you
are loved. I love you.
Signed x
I froze. I was stuck in the moment trying to figure out who x was.
It couldn’t have been my ex; his handwriting was awful it looked like the
writing of a three year old at the age twenty-seven not to mention that after
the breakup he moved out of the country and into Turkey, I haven’t heard from
him in almost four years.
That aside I still needed to write my letter to Santa and post it
off. So I bought out my quill pen and a piece of paper I had smeared coffee all
over the night previous to make it look old, and began to pour my heart out.
Dear Santa,
They tell me to stop believing lies, they
say your existence is a lie, so this Christmas, I have a question. Well… a
question and a request. I hope its okay with you. I’d like to know, what is the
truth behind a lie?
I have always thought that the definition
of the truth is built up on lies, but then what is a lie?
I have
always perceived that the truth is only lies you have forever been denying to
be and believed instead of distrust.
So therefore, the truth is only lies which
we choose to forever deny; the truth is everything we choose to believe instead
of doubt.
To them this doesn’t seem to be normal,
they have a different definition. What is it with their obsession with
normality?
They don’t even know what normal is?
So this Christmas please answer the
question that is stabbing the life out of my every day, Santa,
‘What is the truth behind a lie?’
I also thought there is something you
might be interested in knowing before I make my one and only Christmas wish for
this year…
I received a letter signed x; I think I
have found someone
I don’t quite know who it is but I have a
feeling that when I finally find out who he is, he will make my heart skip
beats on the go,
He has already changed my perception of
life altogether.
My one and only desire this Christmas is
for ‘x’ to continue being blessed so he may forever lead a blissful life and
find ease in overcoming life’s challenges
Thanks Santa xx
Tina
I enclosed the letter in a silver envelope and inserted a black
bow onto the right corner of the envelope (where a stamp is usually inserted).
All that was left for was to get dressed and mail it off. My hair was put up in a ponytail before I
applied not only my MAC volume mascara but also my Dior lip liner, and cherry
red lipstick filled in the gap. I wore a pair of Zara sunglasses to compliment
my look which consisted of my white skin tight top, red skinny jeans, a black
channel clutch and my glossy white heals. As soon as I was perked up, I grabbed
both letters and was out of the Victorian house faster that a Ferrari on full
speed.
The mail box was less than a
fifteen minute walk away, so I got there fairly quick, kissed the envelope
leaving a lip print on the back and posted it off. With a sigh releasing an
‘amen’ once again I was on the move.
Work was next on the list.
Now at the tube station, I knew I
was going to make an early arrival at the Crown Court, I had a case to fight
today and with the extra boost I received this morning I’ve no doubt that I
will win this case, my client shall get justice, he is innocent. Oh did I
forget to mention I am a lawyer specialising in criminal and co-operative law
for the English Crown Court.
The tube station is empty just like
I knew it would be at this time of day, not many people are out at six a.m. but
for this particular client I am willing to make such sacrifices because I have
a gut feeling, I know he is innocent.
My train had arrived promptly and
was reasonably filled which was much to my surprise. I decided to pull out the
letter and read it over once more just to ensure that the early morning
drowsiness hadn’t caused me to imagine its striking content. As I read it over I could imagine his voice in
the back of my mind speaking to me, whoever x may be I was so deep in thought I very nearly missed
my stop, but was able to snap out of it just in time.
I was kicked by a sudden warmth to my heart as I set foot off of
the train. By the time I had arrived at The English Crown Court it occurred to
me that x could very well be Aaron Simon Williams, my client. The way he always
seems to stare at me with such calm in his glimpse. Could it be him?
Eight thirty five on the dot, the court room began to fill up like
a bath tub underneath a running tap; by eight fifty the court room was full and
the barrister had announced the motion to the jury. My confidence began to fade
as I thought to myself… what if Aaron wrote the letter? I cannot afford let him
down, but he is my client I need to keep a professional relationship between
the two of us. He is quite dashing though. If I even think of saying yes to any
of his questions it could cost my job. But Aaron-
‘Miss Malone you may take the stand’ the judge’s words allowed me
to get a grip of myself and battle Aaron’s case like I have never battled
before.
‘Ladies and gental men,
Aaron is a victim of circumstance
his race is constantly portrayed negatively by the media. The time has come to
change that. You can change that. They have been trapped in society’s prison
cell for way to long. Even songbirds deserve their freedom; the only problem
with this songbird doesn’t emerge for within his being but from those around
him, his voice has been silenced by society, that changes today I am giving him
his voice back because his motive stands strong he is innocent…’
Two hours later we were told that
the case had been dropped in our favor. My heart felt like flying. Aaron came
to thank me for winning the case, he used no words but his voice was heard
through the connection his lips made with mine.
We had gone our separate ways
home because we lived in the opposite ends of town, once at my front door I
received a phone call. ‘Miss Malone speaking how can I help?’
Wailing cries roared though the
phone ‘Aaron is dead. He lost his life in a car accident forty minutes after
leaving the court. Thank you for clearing his name he has died an innocent man.’
It sounded like his mum was on
the other side, whoever it was, was torn apart much like I had become. She told
his funeral was to take place on Christmas day and it would be much appreciated
if I was to attend, because he spoke of me only in a kind manner in his living
days and he would say that I was the sort of woman he wanted to spend his life
with.
My Christmas was broken.
My heart was shattered.
I was dismayed,
I hadn’t even received the chance to confirm
my feelings for him though letters nor words.
When the 25th of
December had arrived, the sound of letters creeping through my letter box awoke
me from my slumber at five thirty a.m.
I sat on the edge of my bed side, shoulders
slouched, my eyes became rubies and they were producing diamonds endlessly. My
head began to ache from weeping like a widow for so long.
The phone rang…
I answered with shaking hands and
hope that it would have been a mistake. It was Adrian on the other side of the
phone, my boss, my broken voice was losing its strength but I could just about
utter the words ‘Miss Malone speaking how can I help?’ before I could speak no
longer and once again broke down in tears.
‘Good morning Miss Malone, I am
sorry for your loss’ a synaptic tone caressed my ear lobe but I knew that this
heartless man didn’t call in to empathize, he had something else on his mind, I
was becoming frustrated and my voice began to pull itself together, it was evident
in my voice that I was not in the mood,’ it’s not your fault thank you is there
anything else you need?’
As suspected Adrian continued ‘
well… actually there is one other thing, Cassandra is unable to attend her
assigned case today due to her being hospitalized is it possible for you to
fill in, the family need someone to fight their case and you are my strongest
employee.
I hung up.
Got dressed in my mid black dress
matching colored gloves and heels, made my way into the cab and was at the
funeral in time for the burying party to lower the body into the rectangular
shape dug into the ground. The shape reminded me of my letter box. I knew now
that my letterbox would be a constant reminder of this day.
I could faintly hear the priest
though he was standing practically beside me ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust…’
