We were always friends. Finn and I. We were so different, yet understood each other so clearly. His dark hair and ice blue eyes always sent shivers down my spine. And whenever his darkened skin by the golden rays touch my ivory, I swore the sky got a little bluer. He was my love, my eternal sunshine, my light. Granted; of course, we were never meant to last, ever. I came from a rich father and no mother, and he came from a poor sailor in a shack by the sea. He was to follow his father’s footsteps, and I was to fallow mine. But he was my dream, and a dream is a wish your heart makes.

It was a cold, dreary September morning when I met my dear Finn. It was an accident of course, but an accident by fate none the less. We met at the fish market in town. Father, was looking for fresh ingredients for one of his famous dinner parties, and I was carelessly walking around day dreaming, what a scandal. He was carrying a large box filled with those sparkling, beautiful, and limp creatures with such a hideous name. Carrying on, I was walking with my head to the sky looking at the birds, and I ran into the beautiful boy. Flushed and smelly, I ran away.

It was a cold dreary September morning when we married also. We were married by a frizzy haired woman in ‘The Little White Chapel’ in a city, to this day I cannot tell you what city, and I never have been able to. I remember that night we fell asleep in a practically vacant motel, with a smile on both of our faces, as we looked at our wired rings. We were so in love, and so passionately, passionately devoted to each other. It was unreal; we were only eighteen and nineteen, both fresh out of high school, and already committed to a life of ups and downs. But we didn’t care what young adult would? All we cared about then was how much cash we had left and where the gas station was.

It was also a cold and dreary September morning when Finn died. The week before his emphysema had reached its peak. He could not breathe at all. So off to the ER we were, in our small rusty truck. When we reached there they gave him a sedative and a trachea. The doctor pulled me aside and gave him the rest of the week. But I held strong, except for a few tears. ‘Don’t tell him, not yet.’ Was all I could mutter. And then I wiped my face stood tall and walked into his room to see him asleep. I slid into his bed, and held him throughout the night.

But it was a sunny September morning, and today is the day he died. He awoke early this morning struggling to keep breathing, even through the trachea. I tried to get the doctors, only to get stopped by a weak and cold hand. With is other hand he reached into his stark white pillowcase, he closed his eyes to let a few tears out and hand me an envelope. “Don’t open it, not yet at least.” He begged as I nodded. “I love you, you know, always have.” I said, as clearly as I could as my jaw started to crack form the crying. “I know.” He whispered. And then his grip on my hand loosed. And Finn was gone.

Today it is a rainy September morning, and it is our anniversary. Today is the day I read his letter. It is the day I cried all the tears I held in, today is our day and always will be. Today is the day, that there will be no other.

For Emma,
Here we are. And how unprepared we were for a suspected day. I knew this day was coming Em, and I guess I gave up. I’m sorry I did, but I didn’t want to live anymore. But I want you to live your life, and remember, always remember me. That’s what I’m scared of; I’m scared of people forgetting me. But I’ll always love you Emma and I’ll always be with you, like I was always meant to be.
In spirit.
Love,
Finn

And I have always remembered, always.