Letter from Mark

My dear Nora, 

     Though plenty of years have passed, just like how the Earth revolves around the sun— I’m still here revolving around the thought, dwelling rather, within the confines of the letter you sent me after all these years. I also have with me the money you sent, for that I am grateful that despite everything that happened, I and struggles that I so desperately hid remained in your mind. Forgive me for my selfishness. Thank you for your kindness. 

    Every thought of you is deafening, to the point where only the beats of my heart’s quiet pondering can be heard. Every beat feels like a punch to the chest, stemmed from my own cowardice and regrets. Do you think this would be the circumstance if I paid you a visit? To be honest, I don’t understand why I never tried. But the more you think about it, was it really because I lacked the courage to— or was it due to the fact that I feared that I’m not a man worth your smile, heart, and soul? Amidst all that, is there still a possibility of you knowing my truth; the love I have for you. I was supposed to be the one you belonged to, if only I mustered up the strength, I should’ve had the courage. Despite the contemplations, I thought it would be better to keep this message to myself. And yet, here this paper is before you, in which I know you will hold ever so gently like the way you did my skin in the past. 

     The clock says it’s approximately a quarter to two in the morning, yet realization has already dawned on me— It’s too late to do anything about it now. My sweet Nora, if only I could enlighten you on how I really wanted things to go between us, but let my excruciating thoughts remain in the vicinity of my ink-scented room, and this letter be a comfort to your aches after what I’ve done. The time allotted for my supposed confession might have reached its due date, but I will love you, only you for centuries to come— and such has no expiration. I will always love you, my dearest Nora.

Yours truly,

Mark