The following year I retunred to U.S.A. Soon, I found out that I could not live
without my beloved sweetheart. Then, I wrote her the following letter that
I thought would win her heart.
My dearest friend, my love and my companion in life,
I hope you are having as easy as Sunday morning as it is in the Twin Cities.
Today, I am not feeling very well. I am getting some kind of terrible and mixed
symptoms. But, whenever I am sad, my only consolation is remembering the good times
we had. In my lonely sorrows, I feel kind of glad, because I always remember the
good times we had. I had loved you like I've never loved before. Ever since
I met you, I can never feel the same again…but, my love for you will always
remain the same. I had the kind of love that comes to only very few. How can
I imagine to love again? Because, I'll always remember the good times we had.
I'll always give blessings to the Lord for making me such a fortunate man.
How can I forget our honeymoon? The moment I close my eyes, those days come to
me right back like a vision. Then again, when I open my eyes, I still see you in
my memory; there standing next to me. When I see those pictures I took, I become
overwhelmed by the memories of the moments we spent near the grand old trees gracing
the landscape in Bet Gerghis, and the fine views of the skyline painted with slowly
descending clouds that could be seen in the mountains and the space, you turned your
face to me with a beautiful smile. I remember the good times we had when we were on
that high mountain of D'rfo above the clouds. We walked in by the soft flowing
waters and the gentle winds that stirred the leaves, while we were feeding the
ducks and the swans. Another young lovers passed by us arm in arm. The wind
blew faster and people's hats flew. I stopped, distracted, seeing you thinking.
Those are the moments that I will cherish forever in my life.
Words fail me describing your beauty, grace, and charm. You truly are gifted
with natural fineness, instinct for what is elegant, and suppleness of wit.
I remember the good times we had, we talked for hours to ends. We spoke of our
families, our homes, our jobs, our involvement in the all services, where we
had been on vacation, schools etc. While we were walking amidst the flowers of
every color by the park with a lovely lake Lageto, I touched your arms . . .
Suddenly, the sky become deeper blue and the birds sang sweeter melodies.
I'll always remember when I first asked you out for a coffee with me in one
easy Sunday afternoon near May JaH JaH... After the coffee, the Kodak moment of
kombishtato’s view did not escape us; we took those first pictures that would
follow by hundreds of others.
Ever since I came to the U.S., you did not come to me in my dreams, you
accompanied me everywhere, like my shadow, following me everywhere I went. I
could still hear your breathing, the sweet rustle of your skirts. My first
love, you're every breath that I take; you're every step that I make. Whenever
I close my eyes, you happen to stand right before me in flesh, still lovelier,
still younger and tender that you had really been. And looking back in the
times I spent with you, I see myself, too, as better than I have been.
Remembering the sweet aroma of your cologne and the touch of your soft and
beautiful hair, I cannot control my emotions and my feelings. Your smile is
like a breeze of spring. And your voice soak like the summer rain. No one can
compete with you, my darling. There is only you in my life. The only thing
that's right.
In the streets of Minneapolis, I followed women in vein with my eyes open, to
see if there were any like you. When the night time starts to fall, then I miss
you most of all. My memories wonder around the good times we had when you
looked at me from the bookshelf of our home, the fireplace, and the corner, playing
the piano that touches the soul . . .
Ever since I came here, I've always felt an overwhelming desire to share my
memories with someone. But, since I could not speak of my love at home, and
out side my home, who was there else to open your heart to? Not the tenants
living in my house, and certainly not my colleagues at work. And what was
there to tell? Was it love that I felt? Had there been anything exquisite,
worthy of saying, anything constructive or even amusing about my private life?
With my friends, I had to concentrate myself with uttering vague generalization
about love and women and even sing sweet melodies of love, and nobody guessed
what I meant, though once my friend's dark eyebrows twitched as he said:
"There role of politics doesn't suite you a bit, Barnie."
What is left? Discussions, people, wasted evenings, tedious and empty days!
Frantic cards and checkers games, gluttony, and perpetual talks always about
the same thing that was no use to anyone. There is nowhere to escape to; you
might as well be in the madhouse or a convict settlement.
I did not know how greater part of one's time and energy could be spent on
thinking of love. But, I'll always remember the good times we had!
Please convey my greetings to your beloved mother, Milsaria and your beloved
father, Markorio. All my greetings to Muniyana and all your brothers. At
last, but not least, a special hug and kiss to your little brother, Binsiano.
It has been 10 years since I have written that letter. Over the eyars,
the memory in my head started to fade gradually.
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... at least in memory
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\/__/ \/__/ ~~
P.P.S.
Pictures & Words:
By Barnabas Yohannes
Time Spent:
12 hours and 45 minutes
How:
Don't try this at home.
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click here . . .