I traced my finger over the ink, wishing his hands were touching me. He’d vowed to write, text, and call whenever he could until I reunited with him in Florida in a few months, but would that work? I could already see we’d be attached to the phone until we were together again. Our bond, sealed the day Fin kissed me, rubbed like a piece of glass lodged within the tender folds of my heart, needling its way further inside with each labored beat. A temporary reprieve lasting as long as it took to read the letter. Daily there’d only be a few minutes of bliss as I ripped open the envelope that filled my soul with his words. Already, something inside my soul had died and this ritual became crystal clear. He’d written yesterday’s date - Sunday, April 10th - across the top, the day he left me. I clutched Fin’s first letter against my chest and crumpled onto my bed. And for keeping your promise to each other for over forty years
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