Fourteen Cards

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I think it's rather poetic.
My mother left the world the moment I was born into it.
When I close my eyes, I can almost picture it. The exact moment my father first held me.
In his eyes, so much pain reflected in his beautiful brown orbs.

The same orbs that still stare at me with pain and sadness.
Why?
Life didn't just take away the love of his life, he was given an exact replica of her.
There has never been a doubt about how much he loved me but I understood.
My mother was his soulmate.

I never got a chance to meet her. Never got a chance to experience the love of a mother.
I visited her grave for the first time, I was three.
I was too little to comprehend why a big stone was blocking me from seeing the woman who had given me life.

As the years passed, I wished more than anything to just hug the woman that lay beneath the stone.

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I visited her only on the day she left me. My Dad would take me there while he waited for me.
On my sixth birthday, I went to her stone and sat beside her. I just talked.
That's all I ever did and for I always felt like she was there, listening.

The sun was about giving way to the moon and I was about to leave, until the earth went around for another three hundred and sixty five days when my eye caught something.
There was a card laying on the floor, the wind must have blown the leaves that covered it away because I wouldn't have missed it.

I picked it up, opening it. It was addressed to me I realized. It was a birthday card that said happy sixth birthday and beneath it was a written note.
Your eyes, I can't tell if they are blue or green from afar

I was just six years old, even my little brain found it weird. I left the card and walked back to meet my father.

The same thing happened the next year, with the same handwriting, the only difference was the age and the note.
I took a step closer and I was wrong. They are neither blue nor green but I can't still tell the color

I took the card and showed it to my father. He thought it was sweet, "Someone has a crush on my beautiful little girl", he laughed.
My father, the hopeless romantic.

I got another one on my eighth birthday. The card was always left beside my mother's grave, covered with leaves for me alone to find.
I figured it out. Your eyes are…..Wait till next year to find out.
I laughed. I knew exactly what color my eyes were but there was just something exciting about whoever it was telling me.

The next card came the next year, Teal.
That was the only thing that was written. I was so disappointed. I had to wait another year.

I got a card with a note for the next ten years.
My favorites were the notes that came on my thirteenth, sixteenth and eighteenth birthdays.
You want to find out who I am?, I will give you a clue. I have two numbers in my age too
It was ridiculous, I knew.
But whoever it was, somehow managed to fill the void I felt.

On my sixteenth, Three years later and you still haven't guessed, careful now, I think you might be obsessed.

My eighteenth, ,Two years from now, I will reveal myself
I felt myself do a cartwheel in my head.
I tried to find out who kept the cards each year, I would camp out on the eve of my birthday but it was to no reveal.
My Dad had gotten worried about someone writing me letters for twelve years but I just felt connected and safe.

On my twentieth birthday, I went to my mother's grave earlier than usual. I sat down, talked about everything in my life.
I felt her presence, like she was right there watching over me.

When the sun was about to set, I went to the usual spot to scatter the leaves. No card lay underneath it.
My heart broke.
Maybe I had come too early and the person couldn't place the card.

I broke my rule and visited her grave for the next three days. I didn't get a card.
On the third day, I turned to leave.
A voice spoke, "You shouldn't ever frown".
I turned my head to the person, it was a man. He looked a few years older than me and for some reason he looked familiar.

He smiled and I melted.
"You don't remember me do you?"
I shook my head no, he brought out a paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
Do you wanna be friends?

I recognized the handwriting. It was mine and then I suddenly remembered.
I had written the note to a boy who always sat alone in class. I never got a reply.
I never saw him again after I slipped the note into his bag.

"I got adopted the day you wrote me that note and my parents moved me two hours away so I had to change schools".

"Why did you write me notes each year and why now?"
He smiled again and I was a goner.
"You said you wanted to meet your soulmate for the first time when you were twenty just like your mother did".
How could he remember the words spoken by a five year old naive child?
He brought out my card, and I opened it.
I'm sorry it came late, Yes, I want to be friends.

I looked at him, I don't know when it happened exactly, but I knew I had fallen in love with the boy that sent me fourteen cards.

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