letter to lover saying once once once more Notes: the characters in this letter/story arc are violetta (viola) and charles. they have been mentioned before in a pair of letters between viola and her friend roberta, in which roberta tells viola not to see charles again, he has hurt her so badly. i'm not sure what i'm planning to do with those three--i'm just really interested in how things could happen. here, in this letter, from charles to viola, charles is the one who is begging for viola's love and forgiveness, instead of the first letter, in which viola begs charles to take her out of her present obscurity. they're different characters, really, even though they're still the same. i never intended charles to be so...verbose. My dearest Viola, Perhaps there is hope in this world. I thought, after that fateful wreck of a night six years ago, that we would never ever speak again, never see each other again, never remember each other's faces, names, favorite foods/colors/ways to clean the carpet (I had the brush, you the maid). We were a pretty stubborn pair, Viola. I'd say one thing and you; you were always there to disagree with me every single time, even if you knew I was right. And you'd say one thing and I'd have to always remind you that you missed something, I'd always have to correct you, even when you had gotten it down pat. Sometimes it frightened me, what that sort of thing could do to our relationship. But we carried on diligently for two years, didn't we? We made it. I suppose we never took each other one hundred percent seriously. I suppose that, on the inside, we were always a little ignorant of the other, a little turned off, a little shut down. That's not healthy...you would have surely said that to me if I had told you while you were still practising for your medical license. And how did that go? Have you gotten your own office, just like you wished? Back to the subject, which I have so carefully steered myself away from (I do that often, do I not)'I have finally found you again. My pocket full of strings! Viola, I must now say how much I have truly missed you. It has been six years, and every day I have secretly, unconsciously complained how I couldn't see you, breathe you, and love you. Because you may have walked out on me vowing to hate me eternally--and I know I voiced the same--but our tempers matched in intensity, too, and we were both hurricanes, fighting for flow space, covering too much ground. I would like to think we are back together again, just because I finally know your address--your space--your time zone--your husband, but of course we aren't. What a silly daydream. I was always one to doze off, you must remember. Maybe you don't know me anymore, Vi, maybe you don't want me even under all of the I'll never come back to you agains, Ola. Maybe nothing is the same. Maybe you are completely different, and you hate cats now, and you prefer wisteria to roses, when six years ago it was all the opposite, the complete opposite. Are you your own anathema, today? Or would you be only if I knocked on your door? Do you remember the eggplant-colored gown...your body full of lily-of-the-valley-- I meant, of course...I meant bottle. I really must stop myself now, or else I'll become crazy enough to really tap on your door and crush you, my delicate viola, in my arms once once once more. Always waiting outside your door, Charles back