"I want how it was before. I want it all with you in my life again... I'm asking you to stay."
Miles Cobain-Smith
An aloof and detached logician, he scrutinizes the simplest things through microscopic lenses. Academic validation, family expectations...
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The room is dimly lit by the warm glow of the desk lamp, and with the window near it left ajar, the crisp night air seeps inside. Sitting at her desk, Juliet brings a notebook out of the drawer along with a pen and another journal she's kept for a long time where she writes her poems. The special notebook was bought a few days ago after she searched a handful of stationeries to find one that met her expectations. It has a heavy black hardcover with dark red roses and leaves engraved on the front and is of a large size.
Flipping through the pages of her journal, she lands on the entry from March when she first met Miles. The first poem about him was written in the same month, somewhat out of impulse and for the sake of her own amusement. Juliet did feel drawn to his charm already, that's true, and she wanted to amplify the feeling and write about it in a way that sounded like love. If only she knew, her jokingly done exaggeration was soon to become true.
Juliet smiles slightly, reminiscing about the incident and sets the diary aside before pulling out a page from the stack of vintage letter papers. Thinking for a while, she carefully begins writing, etching every word with sincere adoration and effort.
Miles,
I don't know what I'm about to start, but the urge is irresistible. The first time we met, in the living room of your house in Mahone Bay, I was awestruck. You looked beautiful. I'm not sure if it was my eyes, the glow of the golden hour, or whatever, but the moment was surreal. And the next few days spending time with you, I was starting to get attached. Then one day, I wrote a poem with you in my mind, and that was a start. It's something I can't help. Whenever I see beauty and love, it makes me want to turn it into poetry. I've kept writing poems about you since then. And when I was waiting for you in the park that day, this idea struck my mind. I feel like this will be the best gift for you and for me, to preserve our story in these pages from the very beginning. I don't know when I will give this to you, but someday I definitely will.
You mean the world to me, and I know the future is uncertain and we don't know where this path will lead to, but... right now, this moment is frozen in time and I know that I love you. Even when the past is long gone and we want to forget and move on, we still carry along the echoes of it for as long as we live, and you are like a part of me I can't erase... Even if the hope of the future we dream of ever betrays us. Because you are permanent. You are real, and I don't need to hide my most sincere feelings. Forgive me for my poetic language; I have a habit of transforming into a vintage soul when I write! At last... Here's to us-from my point of view.
- Juliet
Reading it again once the letter is finished, she attaches some butterfly stickers to it and folds it gently. Juliet puts it into a brown envelope and secures it with a beige ribbon, placing it into the letter holder inside the notebook. 'That's all for today' she thinks to herself while rearranging the scattered items all over the desk.
