What Did He Say in the Letter?

Tears sprang to my eyes before I was able to stop them. I had to pull myself together. I could let fear and self-doubt debilitate me, or I could take control and find a way out of this mess. The music meant he had been there, but it didn’t mean he was still there. I could grab the keys and then drive out of town, find someplace quiet where I could make some decisions about the future.

I told myself I was strong enough, but somewhere deep within me a voice told me I’d never break free, that I was actually better off returning to him. Briefly I thought about the time I’d spent with Clay. Maybe I was overreacting. I didn’t fully understand what had happened the past few weeks. If I went back he could explain what I’d found. He had always been able to ease my mind when I had been confused or scared.


Too afraid to be heard, I merely thought the word instead of screaming it. Still, it was enough to drown the chatter in my mind. I would get away, and then think through what was going on. I couldn’t do that here. I wouldn’t be able to think clearly with reminders of Clay everywhere. Somehow things had gotten out of control. I didn’t really understand what was going on, but something wasn’t right. And knowing he had been in my apartment when I wasn’t there felt like a violation. Maybe the problem was me in the end, but I wouldn’t be able to figure that out standing there on my stoop, and letting Clay confuse matters once again wasn’t going to solve anything.

Regaining my courage I pushed open the door and was shocked by the display in front of me. Magnolia blossoms had been spread across my dining table; an envelope with my name written in Clay’s tight scrawl lay propped against the hurricane lamp that held a flickering candle in the center.

With trembling fingers I ripped open the letter, anxious to know what was inside. I unfolded the thick stationary and read:

It doesn’t have to be this way. I love you. You belong with me. Come home.

Confusion swept through me as I read the words, “I love you.” Was this love? Maybe. I had never actually been in love, although a few times in the past I had mistaken infatuation for love. The word replayed in my mind, over and over. Love. Love.

Feeling light-headed I sat in one of the hard, wooden chairs at the table, my eyes fixed on the candle. I watched the wax drip down the sides as the word continued to beat in my mind. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.

This post is in response to the daily writing prompts Blossom and Debilitate and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a part of the story about the ex and comes after The Beautiful Music Was Eerie in My Apartment.

7 thoughts on “What Did He Say in the Letter?”

Join the Conversation

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s