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August 29th, 1940 The Orchard Cottage St. Austell Co. Cornwall
Dear Thomas . . .
Don't laugh at me. Actually, I take that back. Laugh all you like. It's only natural to laugh. Besides, you used to laugh at me all the time.
And I like your laugh, anyways, so what does it matter?
I don't want this to be too long. Or boring. Or ridiculously sappy, either. But I do want it to be meaningful. And I must tell you. I need to tell you.
Do you remember the day where it rained in the meadows, and we closed our eyes and stuck our tongues out with our arms wide open, heads tipped back and hearts tucked in, warm and lovely because we were holding hands, and so the coldness of the raindrops couldn't seep in amidst the burning of our desire?
Or the day where we were planting vegetables in the garden and I asked if you liked carrots, and you laughed and asked me what kind of question that was, and I said it was a very important question, and then you said that you hated carrots and your eyes were brown like the soils of summer and penny copper, and your grin was absolutely infectious just as it always had been.
There's to much to tell you. So much and such little time. And sometimes it feels as though time itself is a trick. A game. Except, nobody really knows how to play. I don't. And I don't think you do, either.
Nobody does, do they?
Time always runs out. It gets faster. It slows down. Sometimes it's like it's not even real. You never know how much you have. How long it will last. If it will last at all. You just know that it's there, and there's not a lot of it.
The key to it, really, is that of remembrance.
So, I'll tell you this now. While I've got the chance, because I didn't before and I should have, back then.
The thing is, we all want to be remembered. Everyone does. Everyone wants a world of admirers, cheering them on as they do things like fight for their country by going to war. It's why they do it, they want everyone to be proud of them.
People want approval, respect, validation. And no matter how many fights we fight and wars we live through, nobody seems to realise that you can't please everyone.
Everyone tries so hard to get acceptance from everybody else, they forget to accept themselves, and what they believe in. They get lost in the process, lose themselves. And that's a real shame, isn't it?
