Letters

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I enter the old room for the first time a long time ago. The windows are closed and the smell of tobacco still remains in the dusty room. I close the curtains, and then I sit on a small bench located in front of the piano. The piano he used to play at night, in this room next to mine, knowing that I could hear him perfectly. I open the piano, revealing the dusty keys. Slightly lifted the arm. My fingers tremble. A heavy steel chains have made a knot in my throat. When do you return? I wonder. My eyes have been cloudy because of the moisture of my tears, that they begin to bloom. Attempt to focus the gaze, and when I get it, I see it. A wistful smile makes its way down my face, as tears glide up to the tips of my lips. It is still there. The score with much effort wrote to me. With my trembling hand came up to my fingers and carefully touched the score. The paper caresses my fingertips. What came to me and read her name written in ink, almost erased by the fault of the time. Time. Time that I have been waiting for, to be able to meet again. I want to feel his strong arms around my waist again. I want to feel your breath on my forehead. I want to feel protected, while I support in his chest. Simply, I want to back. But I'm afraid that's not going to be able to be as well, I don't even know if he is still alive.


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A fine calligraphy, of tight letters arranged on a thick role that the time has been wearing out. An old photo spoiled by the sun, given in on. A spot, of coffe or perhaps of moisture, making the blue ink dirty. The stamp, earlier red, divided for the years.

That all rests on the desk of the office.

In my hand, the cross of Iron.

In my mind, his eyes.

In my heart, his.

I missed him in those times. I'm glad he is back. I'm glad that he never stopped writing to me, even in the worst moments of the war. His letters were always coming, and were transmitting all the love that he had to me, and still has. And I was always answering, of course. Although I will never be able to be equal of good writing my feelings like him, I will never be able to transmit this love that I feel for him across a frayed, clean or soft role, although I will not be able to do it in the dirty, rough or broken one either. Nevertheless, he could. And it was doing to me infinitely happily that only was writing them for me. As its compositions, as its arms, as its heart, me belonged, he always was saying. And that towards that of my eyes there were raining crystalline drops of water, full of happiness, which he was drying quickly with its subtle thumb. This was what was happening in the moment.

After Reading thoroughly all his letters, I cuold not avoid to break in happines sobs, because he was with me, not with the dead soldiers who had fall in the war, not in heaven, or in the hell, because he had returned. and because he always loved me, loves me, and will love me.

And in that that was weeping, more silently that it could, I listened to the door to be opened. The sound of his boots walking slowly and firmly it flooded the room while it was approaching. He supported his arms in my thin hip, and his head rested in my shoulder. He kissed me in the cheek and dried my tears as he always does.

I supported my head in his, closing my eyes. My hands rested on his.

"I have read the letters again. " I whispered in his ear.

The silence became present. Ludwig didn't say anything, he only kissed the hollow between my shoulder, after agreeing. A solitary tear covered my face.

'' I love you. "I whispered.

"I also love you. " He said in answer. '' And you know it. ''


''Y-yes, I do. '' I whispered, again.


'' You like those letters, don't you? Everytime I leave you alone you come here and you read them. ''

''Y-yes, but I can't help it. I love them. They remind me... How do you love me. ''


''I only explained my feelings on a paper. An impotent paper that sooner or later will become brown, up to wrinkling completely. Some day the letters will leave it. And little by little it will be consumed. Its tops will be turning browns, until they will remain rounded instead of sharp-pointed. They will fray. Up to staying in ashes. I would like that, although these papers stop existing, these words will continue in your mind forever. ''

The love flooded my heart.

"I will do all the possible so that they remain recorded in my memory. Although, I want you to know that they are already recorded in my heart. "

"I am glad that it is like that. If not, I will be in charge of reminding them to you whenever you'll need it. "

''Thanks. '' I said. ''Thanks for loving me of such way... I.. I don't know... how.. you can love anybody like me. What do I have special? I don't deserve your love... I...''

''You. '' He interrumped me. ''"You are the person that so much fondness has given to me. The one that has always been with me when the world has given me the back. You are the girl for whom I have fought, and thanks to your memory in my mind, I have managed to return to house live. Because I had hope. That hope you gave to me. Because I said to myself that without you I couldn't live, and that I wouldn't die without you next to me. So, don't you dare to think about yourself like that never again. Please. ''

''I won't. '' I whispered, with several tears running down my face.

He smiled warmly to me, while he was drying my tears gently, facing me.

''I love you. '' He whispered, kissing me sweetly, transmitting me all his love. And I kissed him back, while I was putting myself on tiptoe, with all my love.



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