Chapter 4. Love Letters

Love letters are the most basic yet artistic way to express your feelings for someone. You simply take a beautiful piece of paper and write down your genuine feelings. Even in the twenty-first century, when everyone is only one click away, deep down in our hearts, we still want someone to show some effort and write us a love letter, or at least some love notes.

Dear readers,

I know it’s only chapter 4, but I guess we’re in for a long journey of at least 60-65 chapters, or possibly 70. I may not be the perfect narrator or the perfect main character, and most importantly, I may be boring and annoying as hell. But I promise you that my story will be nothing like me. There will be plot twists, comedy, drama, and plenty of romance.

P.S.: I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel like you’re part of this beautiful, romantic, comedic, and dramatic journey.

With much many love,

Amy Evans.

***

In the library, I was waiting for the new guy. I have always concentrated on the books whenever I’m studying in a library. I’ve never given a damn about what people were doing. However, today, I chose to observe those around me because I had nothing to do. But wow! I had no idea that the library wasn’t the library anymore. I mean, everyone was doing everything other than reading their books.

Two lads were kissing in the hallway, three girls were hiding behind books and doing c***, introverts were watching a movie… Oh, wait a minute! That wasn’t a movie. Ew! Was he watching porn?

I rose up and prepared to leave because I couldn’t bear to witness those books being disparaged. But then he arrived. He was wearing his sleeveless yellow jersey.

God, he looks so hot in yellow.

“I’m sorry, I completely forgot about our meeting.” He approached me while sweating profusely and panting.

If it had been someone else, I would have yelled at them like crazy. But it was him, and despite being drenched in sweat, he was still looking hot as hell.

“It’s okay. I got here just now,” I responded with a smile.

Lie! I’d been waiting for him for an hour. I hate latecomers.

Yeah, it’s different that sometimes, I also come late. In fact, almost every time. But I’m a hypocrite, so I will hate latecomers.

However, for my crush, I can make an exception.

We all do that, don’t we?

“I had basketball practice, so I couldn’t make it on time. Can you give me a minute? I need to change,” he apologized.

“Yeah, sure, take your time,” I retorted.

He removed a towel from his bag and dabbed his perspiring face and arms.

Then he suddenly took off his jersey in front of me, wiped his sweaty rock-hard six-pack abs, and wore the same blue ‘Star Wars’ printed cotton jersey with ribbing around the neckline.

I wondered if he would take off his sports shorts. I mean, that must be sweaty too. But he didn’t.

Except in movies, I have never seen a shirtless man, especially with those sexy, well-defined, solid rock-hard abs. I wanted to reach out and touch them to check whether they were real or I was just dreaming.

“Yeah, let’s get started,” he gave a soft smile.

“Y-yeah, sure! I condensed a few love letters, including those from Ernest Hemingway to Marlene Dietrich, Abigail Adams to John Adams, Marilyn Monroe to Joe DiMaggio, President Ronald Reagan to the first lady Nancy Reagan, and Zelda Sayre to F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

“Fitzgerald? Could it be our Mr. Fitzgerald? I mean, our literature professor?” he asked.

“No! How could it be? He died in 1940. He isn’t our professor Fitzgerald,” I replied.

“I know. I was just kidding,” he chuckled while lightly scratching his brow.

I was assisting him in understanding and feeling those letters, but he was bored. So I decided to talk about some other topics, such as romantic movies related to love letters.

When it’s about romance and letters, the first movie that pops into my head is The Notebook. So, I started with the safe option. I mean, it’s the safe choice. Everyone loves The Notebook. So, it won’t be boring.

“Hey, have you watched The Notebook?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he responded with some interest.

See? I told you. Everyone loves The Notebook.

“Do you remember Noah’s love letter to Allie in The Notebook movie?” I asked as I closed the books.

“Yeah, I do. My dearest Allie. I couldn’t sleep last night because I knew that it was over between us. I’m not bitter anymore because I know that what we had was real…” he read the entire letter.

“Wow! What was that? Have you got a photographic memory?” I praised him.

“No. It’s just supposed to be my favorite scene from The Notebook. I guess I have watched it more than 256 times,” he blushed as he replied.

More than two hundred and fifty-six times? Wait a minute, is he giving reference to the number of love letters I read yesterday?

Is he being competitive? Or is he being observative? 

How does he remember the exact number? I mean, he could have said 200 or 250.

After all, in the era of smartphones, where we can just save our numbers, it’s hard to keep the exact numbers in mind. Until and unless, the number is very important or means a lot to you. Or maybe I’m just thinking too much.

“Well, you could include Noah’s love letter to Allie in the list of top ten letters written by a famous person,” I suggested.

“Can we? I mean, they’re just fictional characters, not real people,” he pointed out.

“Well, they might be fictional, but they are famous. And about being a real person, a writer is a real person, and he wrote that letter. So technically, it’s a letter written by a famous personality, and we can add it to the list,” I answered.

“You know. You are such a genius, Amy.” He extended his arms and made a fist bump.

“Yes, I am,” I proudly stated as we bumped our fists.

Even though it was nearly 7 o’clock, he had not completed his assignment yet. Except for the time I spent reading those 256 letters last night, it took me less than an hour to complete my assignment. I’m not sure if he was writing slowly or if I was just being impatient since I was starving to hell.

“What’s so special about love letters? Why are they so important when we can just find our flames on Tinder?” he disclosed his frustration.

“Excuse me, is this the same boy who has memorized the whole love letter from The Notebook movie?” I interrupted.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little frustrated. Noah’s love letter to Allie in The Notebook hits deep because I know their backstory. Their chemistry was beautifully depicted in the film. However, in these love letters, I only know the names of the sender and recipient. It sounds romantic and artistic, but I really can’t get in deep into it,” he let out a sigh.

Trust me! This guy has never been in love. No wonder why he can’t understand these letters.

“Love letters strengthen relationships. They emphasize your reasons for loving, admiring, or valuing someone. It emphasizes the significance of your relationship. It shows that you value what you have and are not afraid to express it. By writing down your feelings and thoughts, you can show your partner how much you care and express yourself in a way that goes beyond a text, e-mail, or verbal message…”

Once I start talking about something, it’s difficult for me to stop until I’ve completely exhausted my thoughts, so even though he might have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m still gonna continue.

“They are a personal souvenir that can become a treasured memory. People understand what it takes to handwrite a letter, especially when emailing is so much easier, so a handwritten letter is always appreciated. No matter if it’s the 30s, 60s, or 21st century,” I described him briefly in a poetic manner.

I grabbed his right hand, put it on his chest, and said, “You don’t need the backstory to understand these letters. You just need to close your eyes and imagine the person to whom you want to write this love letter. Even imagining your favorite celebrity will work. Then, feel the rhythm of your heartbeat and breathing pattern.”

I’m speechless – my hand is on his hand, very next to his heart. Even with his eyes closed, he exuded a majestic and gorgeous appearance. He has very thick brows and lashes. His peachy lips, calm breath, and brown hair with a perfectly defined hairline were driving me crazy.

Oh my God, he is so perfect.

“Now, just open your eyes and read this letter.” I gave him a letter from Marilyn Monroe to Joe DiMaggio.

He read that letter and said, “This…This is strange. I mean, I have read this letter 2 to 3 times before. But this time, I can actually feel these words!” he reacted in astonishment.

“Really? And how do these words in this letter make you feel?” I asked.

“Sensational!” he responded, gazing lovingly at me through those insane hazel eyes.

I know he’s way out of my league, and he deserves better than me. In fact, he deserves the best. But I just wanna be selfish and make him mine for a lifetime. Always and forever.

Perhaps he understood the assignment this time, so he finished it within half an hour.

Afterward, he added, “You know, now that I’ve seen, felt, and understood the beauty of love letters, I wish someone would write one for me.”

“Lucky you! You just have to wait until Valentine’s Day. I promise you’ll be inundated with those letters,” I replied, lightly punching him on the shoulder.

“No, not that! That’s not a love letter. I mean, it’s something else, but definitely not a love letter,” he said, lightly caressing his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” I requested clarification.

“Those aren’t genuine love letters; they’re just pre-printed cards, which they simply purchase, fill with a lovely quote from the internet, and present. Or even if someone makes a handwritten one with great effort, it will just be anonymous. I mean, how can you dare to love anyone if you can’t even trust yourself enough to write your name on your feelings?” he voiced his dissatisfaction.

Wow! I never anticipated him to be so perceptive. I assumed either he was the type of guy who would count how many cards he got and then brag about it or the one who didn’t bother to touch them at all. But it appeared that he read every card he got and was still looking for a genuine love letter.

“Well, whether they are pre-printed or handmade, you are still lucky to receive them. I’ve never got any of them. Not even a single chocolate!” I expressed my despair.

“Don’t worry, love. This Valentine, I will share my chocolates with you,” he responded as he closed his notebook.

Holy Moly! He said he would give me chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Was he flirting with me, or was that just a friendly gesture?

“By the way, when you said to imagine a person while reading those letters, I imagined Taylor Swift. She is my favorite celebrity crush. So, how about you? Who did you picture?” he asked, ascertaining his curiosity.

“Jung Kook, I imagined Jung Kook from BTS. He is a member of a Korean boy band,” I answered.

It’s a lie. I didn’t imagine Jung Kook. I imagined you while reading those love letters.