Sometimes love struggles to survive and letters continue to be written and never sent. There is a reason. And, as each letter is read, it is another chapter to a love story; a little more is learned and we want more letters; we want to know who, why, where, when, and what...and how, how will the story end? Love Letters Never Sent...
© I'm In Hiding, My Dearest,
from Letters I Never Sent to You
I was watched; my every move documented; I had to run. Run only at night and find a place to hide.
Time passes so slowly.
Is it too horrid of me to say I envy this sheet of paper that shall soon be in your hands? I pray I am here when you read it.
I’m frightened. Every day and every night my heart pounds when I hear military trucks pass by on the street above. I hold my breath waiting for them to force their way in and drag me off or murder me where I sleep.
I am quite alone. I feel abandoned. But, I know there will be no one to betray me.
I have nothing to hold onto. The war has separated us and your letters have stopped.
I hate that the war separates us. I know you’re alive. I know it. I know it.
You took possession of my heart and left me here with nothing to desire, no one to love. How many years have I been alive without a word from you? How I long to embrace you. I had to stop a wipe a few tears because it just keeps going through my mind how long it has been since we were naked lying skin to skin.
Dammit! I feel like I am losing this battle and I was never even fighting the war. I feel as though I am like a house, still standing after the battle, but empty. Lonely. Hopeful for your return.
You’ll think me sentimental, but each time I wrap that shawl you gave me for my birthday around my shoulders, I imagine it is your arms enveloping mine and your body pressing against my back.
I dare not post this. You’ll understand when you return and read all of my letters. Your sister, M, escaped but they shot your mother, J. They said it was because she was hiding me. She never did. I had been somewhere else but I heard what happened. I don't know what happened to your brother and his wife. No one does. Well, you know the reason why.
For now, I am safe.
Until the end of time, I am always
Your Love
(Thomas P. Anschutz, Woman Writing at a Table, 1905)
(Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved)
