New York 22/4/13
My darling Chloe,
You've been so quiet since I came back, I know you're there only by the little sounds you make when you leave in the morning. I want to talk to you but I'm afraid of what you might say. What would I tell someone that silently abandoned me and then came back? There's no answer, just a swift shadow outside my bedroom door and the echoing silence that follows.
I need you, my darling Chloe, like I need to breathe. You're the purifying intoxication that makes me forget, the only drug I need to escape from this madness and the solitude, you fill the void in my heart when we're together. Do you remember the cherry blossoms and the red wine in secret? I know you do and I miss the softness of your warm little hands underneath my clothes and the stars in the garden late at night when everyone else was asleep.
I know that you come here every now and then, my darling Chloe. We've talked about this blog and you have even asked me to turn it into a book some day. Maybe I will, just because you will be the heroine that men will fall helplessly in love with, if they hadn't already. And you know that I've only said good things about you, because good is what you are. To me and for me always.
I miss the softness of your hands every hour of every day, so I want to open my bedroom door and talk to you, my darling Chloe. One morning I will, but first I need to wake up to the sound of the traffic on the avenue and not your high heeled footsteps on the black marble floor in the hallway (the truth is they scare me). I need to take some time to breathe and smell your perfume in the airwaves, and I need to know you're still there like I'm here for you.
You and me always