Dear Logan,


How should a start a letter like this? A simple piece of paper full of my words that will be the beginning of the end? I’ll start by saying that I love you.

The summer we met was the best of my life. I was only fourteen, rebellious and looking for adventure. I could taste the freedom on your lips, feel it in your very being. We would walk to the beach, hand-in-hand. Sometimes, you’d bring your guitar and we’d sing a few verses to the beat of the lapping waves. So many times did we sit on the sand, watching the red sun sink below the water. I loved the feeling of wet sand squishing between my toes. You preferred to stay in your grey Chucks, I remember.

You always said my eyes were the exact blue of the ocean. I would blush, smile, and say that this statement was so cliché. You always replied “So what? Even if it is cliché, it’s still true.”

I remember the moon glistening off of the black water. I remember breathing in your scent, mixed with saltwater as we sat on the shore. I remember feeling completely whole that summer- as if it was the happiest I would ever be. But life with you, love, only got better.

That winter, I found joy in the drifting white snowflakes and the mugs of hot chocolate we shared. You became my best friend, and we continued to fall deeper and deeper in love.

When we were sixteen, we felt as though we were grown up. Fast cars to get us to where we want to go. Mugs of coffee deep into the night to keep us awake. Each other’s love to power us through whatever trouble we faced. Many girls’ hearts had been broken, but mine remained unscathed as I continued to be protected by you.

You were tall and strong, with a lean body and flashing green eyes. Your hair was dark and came down to your eyebrows, and your skin was smooth and flawless. Every time I saw you, I swear, I fell right into love again.

College came and went. We lived on the same campus, but only saw each other about once a week. I stayed true to you, and I know that you returned the favor.

I had finished writing my first book, and still wavering on that unstable edge. You had managed to find a job, and one weekend you took me away. We walked on that very beach that had been ours so very long ago. We sat in the sand and watched as the sun turned red in the evening sky. You pulled out a case, opening it to reveal a diamond ring inside. You asked if I would marry you.

I said yes.

We lived happily ever after.

Almost.

Our family is flourishing. Sammy, our four-year-old son, is rambunctious and wild as ever. His hair is the same color as yours, and he had your body shape. He reminds me of you in so many of his mannerisms.

Baby Rosie is a happy little 7-month-old baby. She has soft cheeks, and deep blue eyes. As blue as the ocean we used to sit and watch. Her hair is light. Almost the color of mine. But it has that distinct wave in it that yours did.

It is dark outside, and way past my bedtime. Rosie is asleep in her room, a flowery, pink themed room that you picked out yourself. Sam is clutching his teddy bear and having peaceful dreams in his own room. Since you’ve gone, Logan, I’ve been lonely. The house has been lonely.

I wonder how long it will take me to adjust to this new lifestyle. A life without you, I always said, would be worse than no life at all. However, you left two pieces of you behind. Sam and Rosie are the love of my life. My light. My reason to keep going.

Well. Before any more words get smudged with my teardrops, I will say goodbye. I love you, Logan. I’ll place this letter in the grave with you, so that maybe, maybe, you can take it to wherever it is we go when our job here is done.


Love you forever and always,

Kaycie