May 02, 2017
Dearly Beloved,
I nearly called you tonight, can you believe it? It's been a difficult couple of days lately and being trapped in this hotel room isn't helping me. I was hoping you would hear me out, listen to me, and urge me to keep going. If not for me or for you, then at least for her, even though she's not here yet. It's been only three nights, but being distracted by meetings, lunches, people who think they matter, networking, and this week-long business expo have dragged these few days to months. It's been only three nights and I miss you dearly. I miss sharing the bed with you, feeling your warmth, your silky hair, your hand in mine, and feeling the life that our love has created growing inside you. Even now, my eyes are heavy, and sighs deep, but I can't detach myself from my body. It's only been three nights...
I can't remember the last time I've been up this late. Being conscious and awake at this hour reminds me so much of our reckless past, of those long nights when the our side of the world was in slumber, but we rebelled and went against the natural order of sleep. Our nights became days and the days were our nights. Do you remember the times we would meander throughout the city in the night? We would frequently see our lively bustling city metamorphose into something deathly frightful, something we couldn't quite understand. Thus, we were adamant to face this monster, to conquer it and tame it. We've soon discovered that it was misunderstood, and, like its daytime doppelganger, it offered of a myriad of secrets, each one just waiting to be discovered. Our dusky enemy eventually became our friend and we embraced him in a way we couldn't with his alter ego. I miss spending those nights awake together. I wonder if the night feels the same about us.
It's getting late now, and I should be sleeping. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow (or should I say, today), but I'll make sure to drop this letter off at a post office. I know it'd be easier for me to scrap this letter, to simply give you a call at the earliest opportunity to talk to you, but I'd regret doing so. I've been writing letters to you for years now, it'd be absurd if I began to give up at it now, wouldn't you think so? Well, before I leave, I just want you to know that I'm safe and well, for the most part. I can't say the same for my state of mind at the moment. Between the mind-numbing corporate meetings and branch networking and the constant worry for your well-being as well as our baby's (I think I found the perfect name for her), I'm lacking peace of mind I need right now. I'm hanging in there. I just have to endure several more days, that's all.
With a love yearning for night-time escapades,
Your Lover
