“A letter home”

Bailieborough Community School

17, Greenwich Village


New York

NY 200014J


Dear Kate,

Hey. It’s me. I could lie and say that I’m just checking up on you and that this is the first and only draft of this letter. But, truth be told this is probably my 16th attempt at writing to you. The reason it took so long to compose this letter and be happy with it is that I still feel guilty. Guilty for neglecting you. Guilty for my own selfishness. And, most importantly, guilty for letting you go. Now after eleven years without communication, I am writing to you to show you that you still hold a place in my heart. A place that has burdened my mind for more than a decade.  After you left all those years ago, I forced myself to think that I was better off without you. My own pride and selfishness made me believe I could last without you. And, I’m not going to lie, it did work, until recently.  A business trip to Boston which included a stay at The Langham reignited my passion and love for you. After walking out of the first-class lounge at Boston-Logan airport and hopping into my cab, I had a short tour of the city, hosted by the driver. Even though I had seen it all before: the museums, the market place, Fenway Park, each of them seemed brand new. It wasn’t until I reached the Langham, where I was greeted by the concierge, that I remembered you. Although now a different roster of staff, the timeless uniforms have remained the same. The sight of them instantly took me back to when we stayed there.  There you were, in your burgundy velvet dress, hair in a plait, black worn pumps on your feet. You giggled the whole way up to our suite, as the busboy lugged our bags behind him. After we tipped him and sent him on the way, I looked at you, still giggling about nothing, me, smiling about the fact that you were happy.  After the concierge repeatedly called me to get my attention, I quickly snapped out of my fantasy. Back to boring, old reality. I walked the same halls as I had previously done, eleven years ago. Tipped the busboy and sent him on his way. Exactly the same thing I had done with you. Except for this time, you weren’t here.  I longed for you the entire trip, and still, am now. What I had thought would have been a quick, easy trip to Boston for the company, turned out to be something more. The hotel was the catalyst in my realisation that I still loved you.   Sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed. This solidified my feelings. Feelings I never knew I had. I am so grateful for my trip to Boston, even if the result of my realisation is that you turn me down. Either way, I want you to know that I still love you and that if you chose to come back to me, I will cherish you like you deserve.  I really look forward to your reply.