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Another literature class assignment. This time we had to write a love letter. Since I've never been in love, and I don't let people tell me what they think love is, this is all I could come up with. My friend says that because I've never experienced it I can shape it what I want, the way I want it.
This one feels different when I listen to it than when I read it though.
"I'm on a train, sitting next to the window. The landscape outside is beautiful, and Sofia is sleeping. It looks like nowadays nobody travels anymore, they're all too busy running to not be late, they don't take deep breaths anymore. It's just the two of us in this carriage. But I don't complain. I like the quiet peace, and the silence that is only broken by the sound of our daughter breathing. Maybe, and most likely, when you read this, we'll be home, having a coffee with Josephine, talking about good old times, looking at photo albums.
It gets cold in our bed without you. It's sad to turn around and not crash with you, with your body, your smell and your smile. Sometimes Sofia sleeps with me. Sofia, who keeps growing and growing, and with signs and words in her language asks me to put a Bob Dylan record on. It reminds her of you. It reminds me of you...
I remember when we met, we were wearing the same Beatles shirt. Now, Sofia wears mine as a dress and I wear yours, and sometimes, without planning it, we wear it the same day.
She's got your eyes, your nose... your hair. She's beautiful. Your mom and your dad always tell her she looks just like you. And she's always quiet when they tell her stories about you. You can tell she really listens to them and plays them in her little head. She closes her eyes sometimes and it's like if she could see you, feel you...
I'm sitting next to the window. I see your face reflected on the glass. I feel your smell on me. Your lips kissing every inch of me and your hands intertwined with mine. I can hear your voice calling me, singing to me.
I need you, and I love you. Sometimes one more than the other, but they always end up mixing, to the point that they're so alike they might be the same.
Sofia says hi, in her language, and she sends you a drawing she made with her little hands.
Come back soon, please..."