To You Whom I Love

In the basement of an abandoned home on the corner of 41st Street, underneath piles of dirty clothes and dusty books, there lay an old wooden box. It looked ordinary enough; with four thin, wooden stumps and a brass latch, but it was what was inside that was most curious. Inside, faded and torn with time, were love letters.


1. Madeline

My Dearest Madeline,

It has been so long since I last saw your face, I'm beginning to forget the curve of your lips and the arch of your brow. Though, I could never forget the swirls of your brown eyes melting into golden rays circling an eclipse. I often sit and watch the sunset, thinking of you each time the sun sinks below the horizon. I wonder if you would do the same, if it was me your thoughts turned to or if you found another to set your gaze upon. No matter how much I told myself that I would be happy for you if that were the case, there is still a coil in my gut and a jealous flame in my heart at the mere thought of it being true. 

Did you love me, Madeline? Because I loved you. I still do.

You told me you were off to another land, a gentler one with gentler people. I did not blame you then and I don't blame you now, this country is no place for someone as sweet and caring as you. Ever since we were children I thought that this world was not fit for as pure a soul as yours. It seems I was right. How I wish you had asked me to come with you... I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth just to see you smile. I should have been the one to ask, I should have mustered the courage to tell you that there was no way I would let you leave alone, that I would protect you, care for you, love you. I would have done all that and more. If only I weren't such a coward.

I wish I could feel the warmth of your glow, I wish I could watch you set upon the horizon as gracefully as you set upon life, I wish I could hold your tender hand in mine and cause the tug of your lips. I wish I could hear you laugh again, the sound of wind chimes dancing in a gentle breeze. I wish I had told you that ever since I first saw you, only five years old with tears streaked down your face and a scrape on your knee, I have been in love with you. I may not have shown it as much as I should have, but I am. I am in love with you, Little Maddy Hargreaves. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.


Yours Always,



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