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MrPositive
Live the life you want
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2024
- Location
- GMT Timezone
Code for Sincerely, Yours
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[JUSTIFY][SIZE=4][COLOR=#696779]❝[/COLOR][/SIZE] [COLOR=#a39e91][SIZE=3]
[H3]Letters Across the Sea[/H3]
Adrian Meyers sat at the small kitchen table, the glow of his laptop casting long shadows against the unwashed dishes in the sink. The house was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of the baby monitor as Ellie shifted in her sleep. He rubbed a hand over his tired face, forcing his eyes to focus on the lecture notes he had been reviewing for his students. Teaching had always been a passion of his. History fascinated him—how the past shaped the present, how lives intertwined across centuries. He had built a career out of it, becoming a professor at the local college, where he spent his days lecturing on revolutions, wars, and cultural shifts. But lately, his love for the subject felt distant, buried beneath grief and exhaustion.
It had been just over a month since he buried Lauren. The word "widower" still felt foreign, like a title that belonged to someone else. Six months ago, they had been planning a trip to the coast, imagining a future where Ellie would build sandcastles and chase seagulls while they sat on a blanket, laughing at the mess she made. But cancer had stolen that future before they even realized it was at risk. The diagnosis had come too late, the battle too short. One moment, they were clinging to hope, and the next, he was holding her hand as she slipped away. Now, the house felt hollow. Too quiet. Too big. Every room still held traces of her—her favorite book left on the coffee table, the scent of her perfume lingering in the wardrobe, the photos she had insisted on framing and hanging in the hallway. But she was gone, and all that remained was the weight of what she had left behind.
There was no time to grieve properly. Not when Ellie needed him. At three years old, she didn't understand why her mother wasn't coming back. She only knew that sometimes, in the middle of the night, she would wake up crying for her, and it was Adrian who would hold her until she drifted back to sleep. He had to be both parents now. The one who cooked her meals, folded her tiny clothes, kissed her scraped knees, and made sure she felt loved, even when he felt completely lost.
Exhaustion was a constant companion. Between lectures, grading, and committee meetings, he barely kept up with his work, let alone the responsibilities of running a household. His students noticed. He saw it in their concerned glances when he lost track of a point mid-lecture, in the way some of them hesitated before handing in their essays, as if giving him extra work felt like a burden. He appreciated their quiet kindness, but it only made him feel more like a man who had lost his footing. Tonight was no different. His eyes burned as he skimmed through his notes, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, between lesson plans and unanswered emails, an ad caught his eye.
"International Pen Pals Wanted! Rediscover the Joy of Letter Writing!"
Normally, he would have scrolled past without a second thought. These kinds of things felt frivolous, a waste of time he didn't have. But something about it pulled him back. When he was twelve, his English teacher had signed their class up for a pen pal program, matching them with students from around the world. Adrian had been paired with a boy from Argentina named Lucas. At first, their letters had been stiff and formal, filled with polite questions about school and family. But as time went on, they found common ground—sports. Lucas had been obsessed with football, and Adrian, who spent every free moment playing with his friends on the pitch behind his house, finally had someone to talk to who cared as much as he did. They wrote back and forth about their favorite teams, arguing over which players were the best, trading stories of their own victories and defeats. Lucas had even sent him a Boca Juniors scarf one Christmas, and Adrian had worn it proudly, despite not supporting the team. For years, those letters had been something to look forward to, a small thrill in the form of an envelope with foreign stamps. But, as it often happened, life got in the way. The letters became less frequent. Then they stopped altogether.
Now, staring at the ad, he wondered what had become of Lucas. Did he still love football? Did he have a family of his own? Had he ever thought about those letters, the same way Adrian did? Maybe this was a pointless distraction. But maybe, just maybe, it was something else—something to remind him that there was still more to life than grief and responsibility. Before he could talk himself out of it, he clicked the link. The form was simple. Name, age, country, interests.
Name: Adrian Meyers
Age: 36
Country: Ireland
Interests: History (naturally), football (watching & playing when time allows), reading, and spending time outdoors.
There was a section for a short introduction, and for a moment, he hesitated. How much was he supposed to share? Would it seem strange to mention Ellie? Or Lauren? He didn't want pity. He wanted distraction. Connection. He kept it brief.
[b][COLOR=#185401]"Hi, I'm Adrian. I live in Ireland and teach history at the local college. Life's been a bit hectic lately, but I'd love to reconnect with letter writing—something I enjoyed when I was younger. I'm a big football fan and always up for a debate about the best players or teams. Looking forward to hearing from whoever is out there."[/color][/b]
He hovered over the submit button. Who would be on the other side of this? A retired teacher in Canada? A university student in Japan? A factory worker in Germany? Would they have anything in common? Two decades had passed since his last pen pal. This was something different now. He was different.
With a deep breath, he clicked submit.
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[COLOR=#0f0f0f][SIZE=6][font=Papyrus][B]ADRIAN MEYERS[/B][/font][/SIZE]
[size=2]ׂ[i]❝ Hope is not pretending that troubles don't exist. It is the trust that they will not last forever, that hurts will be healed and difficulties overcome. It is faith that a source of strength and renewal lies within to lead us through the dark into the sunshine ❞[/i][/size][/color][/CENTER]
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