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Darling.

No matter what I would say, you refused to budge. Calm, careless, you had taken up residence on the front lawn of the corner home, though I declined to join you. Instead, defiant, I remained faceted to the sidewalk and out of view from the living room window. I could have sworn each moment would be your last, as I waited for the homeowner to fly out of the front door, enraged by the idea of such a bold young lady. I loved it, though, to be honest, it said a great a deal about your character. Perhaps now I am questioning my hesitance, as it would have been special to have truly known you at that moment. But you eventually joined me again on the sidewalk, taking a rose from the garden on your exit from their lot, a souvenir of your efforts, or a reminder of my reluctance.

I remember this day very well, it plays over and again in my mind when the day is empty, and my thoughts are without purpose. These days, that front lawn and garden is bordered by a brick and steel fence, oddly aggressive in nature to chance passersby who simply wish to enjoy others property. I smile when my daily routine takes me in this direction, because the barrier seems so out of place! The roses are still alive and well, perhaps teasing those who cannot access them, beautiful in their age and permanence.

I think of the type of decisions I made, or did not make, 10 years ago, and perhaps the difference come of them, for better or worse. Maybe all that matters is that I now wish the same opportunity for my own children, that they might recognize something unique in another and pursue it. I am sure your child deserves the same? I have not been able to keep touch with you, besides the odd letter here and there which ultimately go unanswered. You must remember something about those days, don't you? Playing me Politik, your endlessly empty house, walks in the rain and your father calling at the most inopportune moment? I remember those days well.

Perhaps I am naive, to write you, to care about letters and words as we once did. The truth is, Darling, I lost much of you 8 years ago, I destroyed much of our original correspondence for something which had not yet been allowed to come about being. A failure on all accounts, to be sure, if only to see what has come of us since we took our absences from love. I don't know what you are doing now, but part of me still believes your mind is beautiful, and your words are sincere. I hope this letter finds you well, just as calm and confident as you always were.

-Tony