The Time We Almost Died

I can remember a time when you and I were close; almost too close some would say. You always thought the others were jealous of the bond, the connection you and I shared. I knew better, I knew the whole truth; the truth the others knew nothing about. When you and I were young, our hearts were pure; the type of pureness which can only be found in youth. The world was one big exploration for you and I; a journey with no beginning and no end. You and I would always run through that field with the newly fallen leaves. That field was special to you, it reminded you of home; the home you knew before you started experiencing the torment, anger, and rage from your step-father. You would learn all too soon what was behind all of the afflictions he nourished you with. I could never understand why your mother would always turn away, or never believing anything you would try to talk to her about. Maybe internally, she knew the truth; never allowing herself to look you in the eyes again, to see that truth alive, in person. As your step-father was paying for you and your mother’s lifestyle, maybe she thought you were part of a sickening, carnal type of payback, you and her would just have to endure. I never thought anyone could endure what you have endured within your young lifetime; yet you still have the love and joy within your pure heart, which has not been stripped away from you at such a young age. Maybe you have known this the whole time, maybe you never noticed, or just maybe you feel the same as I do; the truth about me is that I am in love with you. From the moment you and I met, it has always been this way for me. There has never been a day which has passed, that I did not close my eyes and think about you. I can still remember how your hair smelled on that fall afternoon. There has never been a day which has passed, that I do not think about our kiss, our first kiss, under the warmth of the wilting maple tree. I can still remember how the sunshine tasted on your lips. I can still remember breathing in the air you were breathing out. I can still taste your lips on mine, the sunshine was blinding. I can still smell that fall field in your hair, and how your warm, delicate, fragile body felt in my arms. I think about you every moment I am alive. It is hard to believe; you and I will no longer be able to walk that field together. I will walk that field alone, thinking of you, your smell, your kisses, and the love and passion you allowed me to see within you, before you went away. It was the only way you were going to be free from the torment and abuse, which you faced on a daily basis. When I took your life away from you, I need you to know, as I told you while I was doing it; I did it solely and purely out of love. You are, and were, the most precious gift I have ever known, within this lifetime. I will leave you this letter upon the roots of the large, wilting maple tree, where you and I used to lean back upon, as I would hold you in my arms. This letter will be in good company, along with the other letters I have left for you on the same day, every year since I buried you. I purposefully buried you underneath our wilting maple tree, so when I am laying underneath its long branches, I am still laying and holding you my love. Sweet dreams my love; know that our love is eternal.