Dear Lily,
To me, you were gold.
Your skin glowed, was smooth to the touch, you were tough, you were perfection.
You were the image of perfection to me. From the way your hair went light in the summer to the way that you snuggled deep into the covers during the cold winters.
You seemed to always hold this glow to you, like there was this bubble of gold surrounding you, embracing you and brushing the people past you. It shimmered, sparkled and radiated and made you worth everything.
You were worth every single argument we had, every time I wanted to walk out and leave. It made all the hardships with your sister worth it, because at the end of the day you were mine and I was yours and there wasn't really much more to it.
You were one of the few people that had this golden touch. You might as well have been Midas for how golden you made me feel.
You made me feel worth everything, too. And that sucks, knowing that you could make me feel gold, but I couldn't make you feel it, too.
One of the synonyms of Golden was Full Of Promise and god, were you filled with promises of a new beginning, of a safe place, of a warm smile, of everything.
Gold glows underneath immortal light and if we were historically speaking, the Chinese thought liquid gold was the cure to long life and it was almost priceless. You are priceless, and I wish I had told you that.
Your life is worth a lot more than you ever thought and it never crossed my mind that you didn't see yourself that way.
I don't have a lot more to say other than I miss you. I miss you so much.
Love from,
Andrew.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Lily
Short Story"Why did you leave me," I had cried. "Don't you dare leave me lonely, Lily. Don't you dare." But you had already left. --- The story of a man, written in letters, falling into the abyss of grief. Inspired by Hotel Ceiling by Rixton
