Dear Elaine,
it is not easy for me to write this letter.
Do you remember when we met each other, for the first time? We were ten years old: you just transferred from another school and the teacher put you beside me, in the school desk. The moment you took seat, you told me to move, that I was occupying your part of the desk, that you needed more space. Maybe I should have stopped there, realize the real meaning of that sentence, trying to understand the mechanism that would have dominated our future life.
On the contrary... well, you know how it ended. We grew up together, we lived together most of our lives. We decided to pass all our future life together, we swore it in front of God... that was not the most beautiful wedding ceremony of the world, but it was a nice wedding. Intimate and with few guests. I still remember how much my parents complained: "You are not going to invite our country relatives? That will be so unkind.". My father did not forgive me for that, still.
Well, the first two years of marriage were not that bad, wasn't it? We had fun, we loved each other. The next day after our second anniversary everything began. I remember that day as it were here, in front of my eyes: I dropped by mistake (I swear, that was by mistake) that Carillon that you loved so much. It broke in a thousand pieces. Yes, I admit it, I hated that sad melody that you listened every day, every hour. But I did not hate it enough to break it no purpose.
I'm still seeing your look of hatred and your words: "You disgust me".
Do you remember when we read together "The Little Prince"? There is a quote that comes to my mind.
So the little prince, in spite of all the good will that was inseparable from his
love, had soon come to doubt her. He had taken seriously words which were
without importance, and it made him very unhappy.
We started to not trust each other, anymore. That was one of the worst period of my life... one year of continuous quarrels, of gastritis, fighting for every stupid thing. We gave credit to our friends and to solve our marriage problems we give birth to Andrea, our son, a soul without any guilt.
That wasn't enough, of course. And he became the subject of all our quarrels: when you bought a toy for him, I bought a bigger one. You taught him to be kind, I thought him to be smart. Poor child... I cannot even imagine what he thought when, in front of him, during one of the many arguments we had, you told me: "Don't even come close to Andrea, you are ruining my child!".
"My child": as if he were only hers.
"I ought not to have listened to her," he confided to me one day. "One never
ought to listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe
their fragrance. Mine perfumed all my planet. But I did not know how to take
pleasure in all her grace. This tale of claws, which disturbed me so much,
should only have filled my heart with tenderness and pity."
From that day, everything became so difficult. I left the house, I went back to live with my parents. There were lawyers between us, and when there are lawyers in the middle everything becomes more complicated. Only now... I realize that I cannot stop thinking about you. I always loved you, even when I couldn't show it to you. I regret it, I regret every single word, insult, gesture that may have hurt you in the past.
Only now I understand that I love you. I always loved you. You were all my life and now my life no longer makes any sense. Last night I started crying as I re-read alone that old little book that we kept in our library... dirty, discolored, crumpled. Today, this letter is my confident, you are my flower and I am his little prince.
"The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have
judged by deeds and not by words. She cast her fragrance and her radiance
over me. I ought never to have run away from her... I ought to have guessed
all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems.
I don't want your forgiveness, I don't deserve it.
That last fighting, just outside the court. I shoved you... and then those lights, the horn, the noise of brakes.
I don't deserve your forgiveness.
I just want to tell you that I miss you, Elaine... I realized it only now, I understood that so late, too much late. Andrea will be fine: your parents love him, and they will grow him like a real little man.
Me? I'm joining you soon, and we can start arguing again, wherever you are.
Because finally...
... I finally learned how to love Flowers.
Forever yours,
Richard Prince
The man, escorted by two policemen, left the closed and packed letter on a tombstone... he left a flower, too. One single red rose, sealed inside a fragile glass globe. Then together, they entered inside a prison police car.
Through tears veiled eyes, the man started the tombstone for the last time.
Elaine Little
October 22, 1980 - August 15, 2017
"Flowers are so inconsistent!
But I was too young
to know how to love her..."
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NOTE: all the quotes are from the book "The Little Prince", Antoine De Saint-Exupery. Furthermore, the letter, the characters and the story here present are pure fictional work.
