Post by Cosette de Manon on Mar 6, 2011 12:22:22 GMT -5
He was gone. Again.
Sighing, I sat up in the bed that had been empty more than full as of late, it seemed. My beloved was so busy; during the day he was looking for jobs or helping his father, and at night.... I knew not. I had never begrudged him any dalliances, and he had done the same with me; we loved each other, and only he held my heart. But did I still hold his? As to that, I truly couldn't say, and that was how I knew it was time to go, at least for a bit.
Standing, I slid my dress on and gazed down at the bed that we shared. I had made it the day after I'd come to live here, working on it all day until my fingers bled. Shaking my head, I searched for parchment and a quill and, sitting down at the table in the kitchen of his family's cozy home, I wrote.
Ansel,
I love you so, and that fact makes this all the harder. To put it quite simply, I've left. I'm taking up lodgings elsewhere in the city, and I've taken Michel with me so you don't need to worry about stabling him.
I wake up nightly and you are nowhere to be found. I would say I never worry about it, but I don't know that I hold your heart as I once did and so I am saving you the trouble of having to hurt me by telling me you don't want me. I don't hold it against you; indeed, my feelings have not changed, and you still do hold my heart. No other man possibly could.
I'm so very sorry that I've been such a burden on you; I do wish you'd have told me sooner that you were feeling differently. I never would have been angry if you'd have only been truthful.
I haven't even left and I miss you already. I miss you all the time, it seems. I love you, Ansel. Please don't ever think otherwise.
With love,
Coco
As I wrote, tears dropped onto the parchment that I hastily wiped away, the end result looking quite smeared and messy but still legible, with little wet droplets on the paper. I packed my meager belongings as the ink dried and, when it had, I folded the parchment once and laid it on the pillow where he laid his head.
Glancing around once more, I stepped silently over to the door with my bag in my hand, tears landing on the floor in front of me as I bowed my head against the door to gather strength. When I shut the door behind me, it was as if I left a piece of myself there. Which made sense, as my heart seemed to be missing.
I moved to the stable and saddled Michel, who knickered softly. "Shh, old friend," I whispered. "I will find you a stall. It may not be as nice as this, but it will simply have to do." I didn't know if there would be anything open at this hour, but I would do what I could to keep my horse safe. As I led him out of his stall, my pack lightly lashed to the saddle, I gazed up at the full moon.
Sighing, I sat up in the bed that had been empty more than full as of late, it seemed. My beloved was so busy; during the day he was looking for jobs or helping his father, and at night.... I knew not. I had never begrudged him any dalliances, and he had done the same with me; we loved each other, and only he held my heart. But did I still hold his? As to that, I truly couldn't say, and that was how I knew it was time to go, at least for a bit.
Standing, I slid my dress on and gazed down at the bed that we shared. I had made it the day after I'd come to live here, working on it all day until my fingers bled. Shaking my head, I searched for parchment and a quill and, sitting down at the table in the kitchen of his family's cozy home, I wrote.
Ansel,
I love you so, and that fact makes this all the harder. To put it quite simply, I've left. I'm taking up lodgings elsewhere in the city, and I've taken Michel with me so you don't need to worry about stabling him.
I wake up nightly and you are nowhere to be found. I would say I never worry about it, but I don't know that I hold your heart as I once did and so I am saving you the trouble of having to hurt me by telling me you don't want me. I don't hold it against you; indeed, my feelings have not changed, and you still do hold my heart. No other man possibly could.
I'm so very sorry that I've been such a burden on you; I do wish you'd have told me sooner that you were feeling differently. I never would have been angry if you'd have only been truthful.
I haven't even left and I miss you already. I miss you all the time, it seems. I love you, Ansel. Please don't ever think otherwise.
With love,
Coco
As I wrote, tears dropped onto the parchment that I hastily wiped away, the end result looking quite smeared and messy but still legible, with little wet droplets on the paper. I packed my meager belongings as the ink dried and, when it had, I folded the parchment once and laid it on the pillow where he laid his head.
Glancing around once more, I stepped silently over to the door with my bag in my hand, tears landing on the floor in front of me as I bowed my head against the door to gather strength. When I shut the door behind me, it was as if I left a piece of myself there. Which made sense, as my heart seemed to be missing.
I moved to the stable and saddled Michel, who knickered softly. "Shh, old friend," I whispered. "I will find you a stall. It may not be as nice as this, but it will simply have to do." I didn't know if there would be anything open at this hour, but I would do what I could to keep my horse safe. As I led him out of his stall, my pack lightly lashed to the saddle, I gazed up at the full moon.
