Letters I Will Never Send (II): River and Rain

July 4, 2015

Bell Island

Dear James,

There’s a place on this river where, even when the water is high, the sure-footed can move from rock to rock and stay dry.

I’m not quite that sure-footed, but there’s just something about making your way through the water, learning how and where to place each step, learning to let your body carry you.

I made my way back and forth, perhaps a dozen times. I went further now and then, deeper in the water. It was glorious.

Even with so many people about, the churn of the water made it quiet--peaceful even.

But when I would stop, all I could think about was how wonderful it would be if you were here to share it with me.

The sky is gray, with the scents of earth, greenery, and water everywhere.

Just how we like it.

Lovely, but...lonely without you.

We could walk, wade, climb, and swim. Silly or sombre, it matters not. All that matters is that you would be here, walking with me once again. It wouldn’t be our first walk in the water on a cloudy day...

Ah, it’s raining now.

Remember our first walk in the rain?

It was an afternoon, a day in the rain really. I think that was the first day I began to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

Remember our last walk in the rain?

I was blind, and in pain, and you took my hand and led me safely down long blocks, across wide streets, and up several flights of stairs.

Not once did you let me stumble, not once did you let go.

Do you remember, love?

Do you remember, you who once walked with me?

I remember.

I remember, and, though no one may ever acknowledge it, you were once my mate, and you walked the long road with me.

All my love,

~Rue