Romans & histoires I Miss You Letters For Her

That is the only thing that lasts. Use it well. I love you. Mother. I read the letter again. Then again. Tears streamed down my face. Lily touched my cheek. "Are you sad?" I picked her up. "No. I am happy." "Then why are you crying?" I kissed her hair. "Because I miss her." She hugged me. "Barnaby says it is okay to miss people." I held her close. "Barnaby is right." Rex took the letter. Read it.

It was painted with dark colours and had just few furnitures. Hera and I sat down on a couch while Lucian and Kimi took the bed. Hera began to read the letter. "Dear Kimi, I hope this letter finds you in good condition. I have a lot to say to you that can't be contained in this letter, but I will try my best to say enough until we meet. Before we meet again, I want to let you know how sorry I am for not giving you the love and attention that you deserved. I assure you that it was coming from a place of love.

You hold an incredibly special place in my life, and every single moment we spent together was a precious treasure that I will forever cherish in my heart. Please do hate me. Take care of yourself and good care of Austin. He needs you in his life more than I do. I love you and I miss you. ~ Yours Jacob. As I finished reading the letter, my heart sank and tears welled up in my eyes. The weight of sadness, longing, and anger overwhelmed me, like a storm crashing against the shore. Jacob's words pierced through my soul, leaving me feeling shattered and lost. I miss you, Jacob, I really do.

I miss you more than words can ever express. I miss the sound of your voice, the way your laughter could chase away the darkest clouds in my mind. I miss the safety of your arms, where the weight of the world always felt lighter. You have no idea how much your absence has left a hollow ache in me. But above all, I want you to know this: I’m safe now. Stronger than ever. I know you must have been worried, probably blaming yourself for not being here. Please don’t. Ruby told me about your letters, and I’ve read every single one. I’ve clung to every word as though they were lifelines, reminding me that I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel.

I miss you. ***

Ama sempre e per sempre tua madre xx. (I will love you always, my little treasure. Never forget that. Love always and forever your mother xx) I kiss the letter and clutch it to my chest and sob silently. I smile, looking up at the clear blue sky. “I love and miss you all so much. I know you are with me. Until we meet again.” I say, blowing a kiss up to the heavens. I fold the letter and place it back in the envelope and place it in my pocket. As I stand, I walk towards my family.

Each picture was a stab in the heart. I started writing her letters I never sent. “Dear Ava, Today I saw a girl who looked just like you. She even laughed like you. It broke something in me. I wanted to run to her. But I didn’t. I stayed hidden cause I'm just a coward” “Dear Ava, I miss the way you used to roll your eyes when I said something stupid. Which was often. I miss everything. Even the fights.” “Dear Ava, Someday, when this is all over, I’ll come back. And I’ll explain everything. If you’ll let me.”

I whispered to myself like a little girl getting a gift. I ran back to my bed and tore it open gently. Her handwriting was neat, with little hearts on the i's. She told me she missed me. She said she hated being in that town because it was filled with old wolves who talked too much. She wrote about how boring the meetings were and how she wished I was there to sneak out with her like we always did. I smiled the whole time I read it. It felt like she was right beside me, talking. She ended the letter by saying she loved me and that she couldn’t wait to come back. She said she was counting the days.

Her hand trembled but she continued writing. Sometimes I still hear you in the rain. Sometimes I hate that I miss you. But maybe that’s part of living again—feeling everything, even the pain. “Yours once, but not anymore.” She stared at her words for a moment before folding the paper neatly and slipping it into one of the envelopes with no stamp and no address. She mumbled, “Just letters without stamps…sent to ghosts that can’t read.” Over the next few days, she kept writing. Every letter began with “Dear Vincent,” and ended with “Yours once, but not anymore.”