Why are things hidden from us? I never knew that John carried around 2 love letters that I wrote him until I went through his work bag this past week. I saw tear stains on them. And I wondered if he had cried reading them when we were going through rough times.
My face went red reading the words I wrote. They were so raw with emotion and love. I wish he would have told me how much they meant to him. I guess he did by me finding them. But I would have cherished that fact while he was alive, that he carried those with him everyday.
The pages were creased and battered from him opening them and reading them again and again.
I miss him so much