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Preserved in Paper
The words you wrote returned to me like a tide breaking against a cliff—inescapable and unforgettable. I remember the nights I pressed my love into a violet grape envelope, trembling as if the paper could carry the pulse of my desire across a distance that was never physical, but formed of invisible walls, cultivated from my own fears. Your letters was lifelines, that help me build a bridge that bore me through the moments when I wanted to runaway, when avoidance convinced me that closeness was dangerous.
And now we are here, having fought every instinct to pull away, your love gave me the strength to wrestle with my own defences until they no longer keep me from you. Now it's such a joy to feel your body beside mine, to hear the cadence of your voice, to trace the contours of your face with my fingers—it is all more than I imagined in those nights of longing. The distance that held me captive seemed insurmountable has dissolved into certainty, and now I am finally present, wholeheartedly.
The letters remain, stacked like mementoes of survival, they mark the journey that brought us here. Every word pressed into ink reminds me that love endured when I could not always show it.
Holding you now, I feel the culmination of longing, ache, fear transformed into presence. You are no longer a vision at the edge of dreams—you are the reality I have fought to reach. I am entirely yours, and I remain wholly in your arms, no longer at a distance from the love I have always carried for you.
Ever yours truly
Copyright ©
Billie Jama
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