Passing by the library Annie noticed that the secretaire was open. She hesitated but entered the room anyways; her husband, Michael, didn’t like her being in there. He used to say it was his workshop, a place where he was the creator and anything that could distract him was not welcome there. Including her.

Throughout the years she had gotten into the habit of not going inside and couldn’t really remember the last time she had stepped over the threshold of the library. She noticed that not much had changed within the years. The same bookshelves, same furniture, even the atmosphere seemed the same. In fact only the laptop on the desk made one realize they hadn’t travelled back in time to the 19th century.

The place seemed so unfamiliar that she felt very uncomfortable there, like a stranger. It was as if she didn’t belong. All she wanted was just to leave this place but something wouldn’t let her. Later she couldn’t explain what made her stay and open the secretaire. Or was it already open? Though it really didn’t matter. She remembered coming closer, how she had opened the box, saw the sheets of paper, remembered how she had taken them into her hands and began reading.

And then time ceased to exist. She was there in that room but at the same time she was not. She could count the minutes but they seemed to be hours, and hours seemed to be seconds. Time didn’t exist and not the reality. There were only she and those sheets of paper.

They were letters. Unfinished. Without a beginning. Rather abstracts of them. Dozens of sheets. Hundreds of words. Thousands of symbols. Symbols of life, love, passion. They were love letters.

She began reading.

You are the only melody of my life. You and only you can light it up, you make the sun shine and only you can keep the rain away. My heart beats for you only and that rhythm can not be compared to anything else. You are the song of my heart and I hope it will never end.

Annie smiled; she remembered one of their first dates few years ago. These were the very words he had said to her that time. She checked the letter for the date it had been written but it was not there, though it didn’t seem to be an old one, so she decided Michael was a hopeless romantic to write these things down for himself. She continued reading.

For you are always in my heart
Giving me love, comfort and peace.
For you are the one whom I want to be happy
Here, now and forever.
For I miss you when you are away
And I need you for no reasons at times.
For you are my life and I don’t want another one
As I am happy with you and it is the way it should be.
For you are me and I am you
And only together we are Whole.
But most of all I don’t have any reasons to love you,
I just do.

Annie couldn’t stop crying, tears rolled down her cheeks. She discovered a new man beside her. After eight years of marriage she almost forgot that he could be so sweet, so sensitive, so loving, so much like the Michael she had fallen in love with many years ago.

You placed hope into my heart, you taught me how to love, you explained to me the meaning of a soul mate. And for that I am thankful. And I am blessed to have you in my life. And for me there will never be a better place than your heart.

“Neither will it ever be for me,” she whispered.

You were there when I most needed you. And you stood by me when I failed. And it gave me the strength to stand up.

“How could I not?” She asked.

Because only with you I learned what happiness is. And with you I know this solace and comfort.

“You have always given me the same feeling,” she smiled.

I don’t know what I did to deserve your presence in my life. But that’s not a question to be asked. Maybe the question is how it happened that you entered it at the exact moment, the moment when I needed someone like you, or rather, the moment when I needed YOU.

Annie was speechless; she never knew she meant so much to him. She felt sorry for all the silly fights they had had, for all the meaningless arguments. She gave herself a promise that she would change things; she would be more tolerant, more passionate, more caring. She would bring back romance into their routine life. Because a man like Michael deserved it.

And I have never loved a woman the way I love you. You are the only one that ever took my heart away and for that I am grateful because without you I would never known what true love is. I love you, Gillian.

Dozens of sheets.
Hundreds of words.
Thousands of symbols.
Symbols of pain, lies, betrayal.
Because the only thing Annie was now sure about – her name was not Gillian.

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It was for this week’s Tuesday Love Ramblings