It didn’t even take a week until your reply reached me and yet the last days were the most difficult I’ve had in a long time. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would reply at all…
What a difference a single letter can make! How a single sheet of paper can be transformed with just a bit of ink; into a blessing, a lifeline, a way out of the labyrinth in which one was already sure of facing death. My eyes won't dry and my face is beginning to hurt and yet I can't stop smiling.
You write that you almost regret talking to me, because you like picturing me trying to draw your face. I will put a small sketch in the envelope. Forgive me for not really drawing your face; I promise you I tried and I can’t do it justice. Instead, I tried to capture the moment.
Your face however, I will only draw when I see you again and you can sit for a portrait. Of course, I have to admit that I would much rather spend the time kissing you again than drawing your face, no matter how beautiful it might be.
Maybe I’ll draw you afterwards, your lips red and lustrous and your hair tousled by my fingers. I admit, I enjoy the idea more and more the longer I think about it. Next time I see you, I'll have to bring the watercolours.
The late summer sun is shining through the leaves outside my window and the neighbour’s children are playing in the street. The holidays are almost over and I wish I could share their last days with you, basking in the warm sun together, like we did at the camp.
God how I miss those blessed weeks.
And how i miss you…
Instead I will read your letter again and again, until I’ve taken your gentle words in and have them coursing through my veins. I was planning on reading „Pride and Prejudice“ again but you have given me reading so much sweeter than that.
I cannot stop thinking of you.
With tender kisses
© Severin Buchenau 2022-05-21