Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I looked over at the bedside table, where I’d placed the letter Blair had written me. It taunted me. I’d thought I would wait to read it until I got home, but I missed her already and wanted to hear her voice again, even if that was just through words on a piece of paper.
Screw it.
I reached for the envelope and stared for a few seconds before opening it.
Her cursive handwriting was just as beautiful as she was.
Dear Tate,
As I write this, you’re sleeping right next to me. You look so peaceful, and I’m happy to have contributed to that.
I know you’re fighting a lot of demons, but I hope our time together helped quiet them for a bit. I can’t begin to understand the pain you’ve been through. You’ve lived a life, and I’ve yet to really begin mine. But this experience will always be a highlight for me. You’ve taught me a lot in our brief time together.
Among the things I’ve learned:
It’s never too late to make things right. Your determination to reconnect with your son speaks volumes about the type of person you are.
As much as you might disagree, I’ve also learned that age is just a number. I’d always heard that saying but never realized how true it was until our connection. Maybe you still doubt that, but for me, there wasn’t one moment I didn’t feel we were on the same level. Maybe that speaks to your immaturity? LOL (Kidding.)
More than anything, you made me feel more beautiful than anyone ever has. I came on this trip so heartbroken and feeling as though I wasn’t good enough because I’d been thrown away by the only “love” I’d ever known. But the way you looked at me, the way your body reacted to me, the way you got lost in me, the way you treated me… You made me feel special. And I will carry that confidence throughout my life. I’m so glad Daniel broke up with me, because it allowed me to meet you. I wouldn’t change anything.
Lastly, we’ve only known one another for a matter of days, but I love you, Tate. I don’t think you need to have spent a lifetime with someone to say that. Love isn’t measured by time. It’s a feeling that you know to be true.
It’s okay if you don’t love me back in the same way. I just want you to know that I love you, and I always will. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if someday when I’m old and gray and ready to take my last breath, your face is the one that flashes before my eyes. Though you’ll be long gone by then. (I hope that made you laugh. If we don’t laugh, we’ll cry.)
Thank you for the best not-even-week of my life.
Love always,
Blair
Her words left me unable to move. That was so much more than I’d expected. There was no greater ache than words left unsaid, and while she’d spoken her truth, mine now burned a hole in my heart, potentially forever. How had I ever thought it was a good idea to leave myself so powerless? With no way to contact her.
I didn’t trust myself. That’s why.
I opened my camera roll to look at the photos I’d taken of her in the sun. The moment I saw her again, I began to cry. I realized, perhaps for the first time, that I loved her, too. That feeling I’d told myself I’d never felt for a woman before? That was love. That’s why it had felt so new and indescribable. It transcended explanation and certainly transcended age and logic. At thirty-six years old, I had never been in love until Blair.
I resolved to channel that love into something positive. To be grateful for the experience and allow it to make me a better person, too.
I’d start by working on my relationship with Taylor. But that couldn’t happen until I worked on myself. Maybe I’d finally go to therapy and get some real help for my PTSD. Until I believed in myself, I wouldn’t be capable of much.
If I could’ve written down my thoughts, I would’ve told Blair I hadn’t felt capable of any of those things until I met her. Were it not for the renewed energy she’d given me, the love she’d showed me, I might never have been ready to move forward.
That should’ve gone in a letter to her. Maybe I’d still write it someday, even if just to get the emotions out on paper. But for today, I’d mourn the end of a beautiful but short chapter in my life.
I had about an hour before I had to head to the airport myself, and I knew I’d be a ball of fucking mush until then. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, how she hadn’t even had breakfast before she left. I hoped she found something good at the airport. I hoped her stomach wasn’t as upset as mine and she could actually eat it. I hoped she wasn’t still crying.