Dear Saoirse: Part One

Part one of a series of flash fictions. The story of Peter and Saoirse who fell in love while traveling across Europe.

Dear Saoirse,

 

            I remember once asking you if you had ever been in love. And you have been, and so have I, and it’s happened again. So you know how horrible it is. It makes us so vulnerable; it opens us up. It opens us up so wide another person can get in there and really f**k you up. Whether they mean to or not.

            Someone f*****g you up on purpose is much less awful than being accidentally fucked up. You can write off the person who did it on purpose as an a*****e. But the one that happened by accident, whether it’s because of timing complications or family issues or geography or what have you… it’s the most heartbreaking kind of fuckup.

            That’s probably when you miss someone the most. Because neither of you tore each other part, everything else did. Time and geography and life tore you and I apart, so please don’t think I’m blaming you. I still haven’t recovered from it. Because I am so positive if we had met at a different time and place things would have worked out. Things would have been easy, and we could accept that we’re soulmates. But the tragic truth is things have not worked out.

            That’s what I keep telling myself, though. We met at the wrong time. And every part of me hopes that we will meet again " few years from now, in another city. And we could give it another shot. I ache hoping for this.

            We’ve met in so many different cities, at different times " we’ve run after each other across the globe. It just got too exhausting; it became impossible to keep going on, looking for someone who might not ever be stable. That’s what you told me, anyways, and I believe it. I put in as much effort as I could, but I was always being moved around. You did such an incredible job at following me, but, I know, you couldn’t spend your important years doing it anymore. You needed a foundation, you needed to be near your family. So, of course, you had to drop my wanderlust life and build something for yourself.

            But I keep hoping I will see you wherever I go. Especially now that I’m heading back to some of the places we were in together. I hope to see your long, wavy, gorgeous strawberry blonde hair bouncing as we walked along the Charles Bridge. I hope to see you smiling at me from across a crowded cruise ship party on the Danube. And I really hope to see you running towards me. In some train station, airport, or bus stop. But I know they won’t happen again.

            “The world won’t stop just because your heart is breaking,” you told me. “You can’t stop just because it feels like your world is ending. Because it’s not.” You told me I had to keep doing what I was doing because if I didn’t, I would resent myself for quitting. Even I quit to pursue the love of my life. You’re so much more practical than I am. You knew you had to sit me down and explain to me that even if it seemed like you were the love of my life, you wouldn’t be able to satisfy me all the time. If I quit, I would feel a void.

            And you were right. You were so right. My world didn’t end, it doesn’t feel any less spectacular. I’m thankful to still be doing what I’m doing. But I miss you so much that I ache. It’s a pain so real and deep I can feel it in my bones. Just like I need air, Saoirse, I need you.

           

            Every time we’ve been together was an event. After we met (remember, how adorable our bookstore meet-cute was?) every time we have been together has been beautiful. And I’m going to write them to you, so you can see them from my side too. So you can see how you look from my eyes.

 

            Sincerely,

            Peter

Author's Note

This is a story I've been working on for sometime, but I've never attempted it as a series of flash fictions in the form of letters. These are also definitely all first drafts.