Letters
My dearest Wren,
I miss you. I know I have no right to, but I do.
My greatest fear for so long has been losing you. I imagined often the pain that would come once we had to part ways or if you grew to hate me as you must now. None of it compares to the sharp ache that lives behind my sternum as I write this.
Every breath is a reminder of my mistake. I dread leaving my chambers because I know there is a chance I’ll see you, as I did today, and you will avert your gaze, as you did. I do not fault you. I could not even if I tried.
I deserve this, perhaps worse. But it doesn’t take the pain away. It feels as though some part of my soul has been carved away. I don’t know that this letter will endear myself to you. But I am trying to be truthful, and this is how I feel.
For better or for worse, I miss you, Wren.
Yours,
Castien