A love letter for the woman who hates me.

I know what you’re thinking, my love.

You’re most likely shaking your head as your small, frail fingers hold this letter and those large, round eyes are wide in confusion. You’ll be wondering why I couldn’t have come up to you and spoke these words out loud. And to be honest, I’m wondering the same thing myself. But as my pen connects with this piece of paper and the ink flows out like water off a waterfall, I can’t stop myself. My thoughts must be written down and you must read them.

I’m writing to remind you about us, about our love for one another. We both know things have changed recently; it lurks in the air like an awful stench as the words are left unspoken. I can’t bring myself to look at the photographs of us perched up on every possible flat surface in the house. This decaying emotion has seeped into the frames and bled onto our happiness. Unfortunately, darling, our love is dying.

Weren’t you the one who told me love is a cruel thing, coming about in waves? We started off in misery, rose to pure bliss, and now we seem to be back at square one. This letter will remind you of our beginning so that we don’t have an end. I want you to fight for us; the same way you used to fight me every second of the day.

Do you remember when we first met, darling? Because I do.

You despised me. God, I’ve never met someone so capable of hatred and pain in those glistening eyes. Let me remind you of those awful days, my love. Let me show you that things aren’t nearly as bad now as they were back then. That we can still salvage this. Sit back and sip at that hot chocolate you no doubt have clutched into your other hand. I’ll do the rest.

I first saw you three years ago. Your back was turned to me so I couldn’t see your face, but I was immediately hooked by your long, dark hair cascading down your small back. The tendrils caressed your bare skin on your thin arms and swayed against your apron as you moved. I remember my eyes almost popping out of their sockets as you sauntered away, hips swaying side to side seductively as you were busy doing a stock rotation, or something like that. I never bothered to find out what you were so distracted with, I wanted to enjoy my view in silence. Your waist snatched in at the middle from how tight you tied your apron and then it rounded out on your hips. You had legs for days, that were made for dancing, and you came to around chest height on me. I was infatuated immediately.

Being three years younger than me, I should have felt some sort of power over you as I entered into my new job. After all, I had much more experience in the catering industry. But you had been working there for two years and you weren’t going to take crap from anyone. Not even me, your future husband.

I cleared my throat to get your attention; I was new at the job, and I needed a little help starting off. But you took this the wrong way, didn’t you? Oh, God, I remember how mad you were at this gesture, my love. This was my first mistake.

Instantly, you spun around, and those dark sultry eyes became hard and cold. A bitter “What?” shot out your lips like a bullet out of a gun. It stung me but pierced my heart at the same time. Your first word to me were also cupids’ arrow sinking into in my skin. From that moment forward, I was intoxicated by your spiteful, yet alluring, personality.

Don’t get me wrong, I bit back too. I’ll never deny the dirty look I gave you as I pushed past to find someone else to help me. But can you really blame me? I maybe tall and broad but it’s still terrifying starting a new job, my love.

Your lip curled up in a snarl and you shot out a hand to stop me. The connection instantly sent ripples through my body, and I resisted the shiver that cascaded down my spine. It was at this point I fully appreciated your beauty. And I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that every other person in that restaurant also appreciated it.

You are stunning, my love, I used to tell you every day. Each new person you meet becomes wrapped around your little finger, tied up neatly in a little bow for you to play with whenever you feel like it. From the way you swayed your hips, fluttered your eyes, and bit your lip enticingly, everyone was hooked. Men, women, other genders alike, we were all intoxicated by you. No one was exempt from your charms.

But I was the only one who had your attention. Albeit it was negative attention; but it was attention, nonetheless.

And oh, that perfume. It was like a mixture of honey, oak, and lemon all in one. I can’t describe it, my love. All I know is that when I met you, despite my anger, I hungered for more of that dark smell. I needed you against me, those little red lips pressed against mine and your small hands trailing up my chest. Lord, I’m hot just thinking about it.

But it took you a long time to come around, didn’t it, my love?

At that place of work, you’d make my life a misery. Remember how you would give me the most awful shifts, disgusting tasks, and longest hours. I can even remember that time you made me wash every single plate, glass, and cutlery whilst you and the other team members took an extra long lunch break. My hands trembled in anger, face contorted and those swear words felt like breaths as they came so naturally. You would invoke hell on me for months. I should have left and found another job. But how could I? My manager had the face of an angel and the body of a temptress.

Eventually, you succumbed to my charms too.

Our first kiss was in the cleaning closet. Do you remember this? You had asked me to come in and help you reach something on the top shelf but from your low, challenging eyes I knew you desired more. Instantly, you attacked me like a lioness swiping at the male lion, defending your cubs. You ripped me to shred with that first kiss and everything I thought I knew about lust was instantly destroyed. You created lust.

From that moment onwards, we were at it like rabbits. We couldn’t take our hands off of each other; we were cursed and blessed at the same time with this enticing feeling, tied together by some invisible rope. I’m not religious, but in those moments, I found God. My deity in human form, controlling every aspect of my mind. Thoughts, dreams, nightmares; you could play the strings beautifully on my puppet like brain.

Then everything changed.

I’m not sure why, I’m not sure how. But it has, hasn’t it?

Those blissful nights turned into separate beds, sneaky kisses turned into bitter words, and loving touches became ghosts overnight.

But I want change; I need change. And I know you want it too, darling. I can see the longing look in your eyes.

My Love let’s give it another chance. Let’s start from the beginning. I mean, we already hate each other so we are off to a good start.

When you finish this letter, come find me in the cleaning closet.

Yours sincerely,

Your husband.