My 6 Year Old Has Trouble Saying Goodbye At School Is It Possible To Revive A Long Lost Love?

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Is It Possible To Revive A Long Lost Love?

It was around 6:30 p.m., and the voice of a familiar announcement echoed through the airport: “Final boarding call for flight 147.” They looked deep into each other’s eyes, trying to capture one last picture of their faces. She tried to smile through her pain as she leaned in to give one last goodbye kiss – a long, tender kiss – that was to be woven into their memories. , followed by a tight grip, for example not wanting to let go. She was obliged to leave to further her education, but was forbidden to leave due to caring for his sick mother and younger siblings. Their love was bound by responsibilities: one for self-improvement and the other for family reasons. Forced to be separated by distance, they had to suffer.

The months that followed were nothing but painful; it was as if death had overtaken a loved one. For every month since she left, she wrote to him. Her letters contained her feelings, thoughts, fears, and insecurities. Unfortunately, his letters were left untouched, unopened, and thrown away. He hadn’t told her that he couldn’t write, let alone read. He kept getting his letters, but he didn’t know what to do with them. He was too proud to ask for help or get someone, at least, to interpret his lover’s letters. At a young age, he had to drop out of elementary school to support his family. To make matters worse, he had lost his father to cancer. Back in the early 1990s in the Marshall Islands, cancer was a certain death due to the lack of modern technology.

Despite the lack of response, she continued to write him letters. She was beginning to think that he was avoiding her letters even though she did not know that he was illiterate. As the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into years, she carefully put her feelings on paper. She kept at it until a year after the anniversary of her departure when she wrote her last letter – her last breath:

“My dear Lucas,

The last breath of our relationship

I have been trying to make sense of things and find words to write to you. There are no words to express the depth of my pain and the deep loss I feel. At this point, it is impossible that we could ever continue with the relationship that we call. There are no winners here; there are only losers. As is common sense: “what is done is done, and it cannot be changed. It is written on the page of our lives, and it will stand firm throughout all eternity. God is only forgive us all our sins. For people, it is a little more difficult to forgive.”

Personally, I don’t think it would be appropriate to continue our relationship. After all, you have been ignoring my letters. It saddens me to say that we should break all the promises we made to each other. So sad that we ended up like this. What happen?

We are old enough to know that we were once lovers. As I remembered the days and nights we shared together, I feel that those were the sweetest moments of our lives as a couple. I couldn’t face all the sadness that I had to face eventually. How could this have happened?

With the deepest pain in my heart and with the greatest sadness I have ever felt for my soul, I say goodbye and good luck in my life. I will always love you; however, I will hate your cruelty forever.

Sincerely,

Natasha Kim”

If his father hadn’t died and he didn’t have to go out of school, he might have had an education and was able to read her letters. If he had not been too proud to seek help in interpreting his letters, he could have communicated in some way. If only he could communicate, he could have kept the flame of passion burning. As the days, months, and years passed, he wondered why the letters stopped coming.

It wasn’t until one day, when Lucas’ younger sister was cleaning her room that she noticed an old leather box that was worn out on top of his night stand. Out of curiosity, she opened the box and was surprised to find a whole year’s worth of letters addressed to her brother. She proceeded to open the last letter her brother had received. It was the last letter sent by her brother’s lover: the last breath. When she was reading the letter, she started to cry because she knew full well that her brother was illiterate, and that he sacrificed education for their family. When she had finished reading the letter, she ran out of the room like a bullet shot out of a gun barrel. She looked frantically for her brother and found him in the kitchen at the dining table sipping what looked like coffee. She began to read the above letter to him. When she finished reading the letter, she looked over at her brother only to find him covering his face with the palms of his hands – trying to hide his pain, his tears.

After a minute passed, he got up and ran to his room with his sister. He wanted to find something, something that could satisfy another form of communication. By coincidence, he found a phone number. It was on the first letter Natasha sent. He sat down next to the phone. His heart was beating so loudly that he couldn’t hear anything else. He picked up the phone and started dialing. ‘Ring’ ‘ring’ ‘ring,’ the fourth ring was picked up, followed by a very soft familiar voice: “Thank you for calling the Smith residence. This is Natasha, how do I deal with her did you call?” He could not believe his ears, and he could not even say a single word. He hung up the phone. He waited for his anxiety to subside and picked up the phone and called again. The first ring was picked up and it was answered, “Hello, this is Tasha.” He replied, “Are you Sasha? God, I’ve lost your voice.” His name was Sasha. Then he could be heard choking; she hung up the phone. That did it. He could not go and call again.

Three days later, he was fixing breakfast and the phone started ringing. He picked it up and heard: “This is Sasha. How are you?” They finally started to get a grip on their lives. She had become pregnant by one of her mates, married and started a family with him. She had a cute, beautiful daughter called Lucia – she was named after Lucas. As their conversation continued, the misunderstanding was resolved, and apologies were accepted. They became best friends and are still in touch with each other.

Although they mean well, the guilt and misunderstanding will always haunt me. It is bad enough that some people are going to be separated by the hard responsibilities of life. It is worse than that that ignorance is another form of ignorance; however, the worst thing in life is when people go to their graves with their feelings unread, messages unwritten, and their stories untold.

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