My Dearest Sara

Rain is falling steadily outside your window. You rub your tired eyes and tell yourself, “good morning.” It is a bad habit you have picked up over the last three months; talking to yourself. Although you tried to stop at first, now it just seems normal. Besides, who else would you talk to anyway?

You climb out of bed and as your feet hit the cold floor, you realize you left your slippers by the couch. In the past, you would have asked him to bring them to you. But there is no use in that now, so you scurry across the room as quickly as you can, making your way to the beat-up sofa in the middle of your tiny studio apartment.  “Ah, eee, ahhh.” You mutter with each frozen step, until your feet make their way into your cozy slippers.

“What should I do today?” You ask yourself as you look through the mostly empty fridge. “Maybe I will finally put away the laundry…” You stare at the pile of clothes thrown on the single chair in the corner of your apartment. “Or at least get it folded.” You look back in the fridge one more time, hoping something you actually want will suddenly appear. “No luck.” You grab a slice of left-over pizza from the box and start eating it without bothering to heat it up.  You make your way over to the couch, eyeing the mess around you as you go. You know you should clean, but that has never really been your thing. He was always the one to make sure things were tidy, so you decide to take a nap instead.

You are suddenly awoken an hour later by the sound of your phone ringing. “Good morning Mrs. Geller. We have a package for you here at the front desk.” “Great, thanks.”

“Except it’s not great,” you say to yourself, “now I actually have to put on pants today.” You quickly throw on an old pair of his pajama pants and rush down the stairs. About halfway down you begin to wonder why you did not take the elevator. Running the stairs used to be a quick warm up before you went out for a jog each morning, but you have not been out of the house much in the last few months and it shows. By the time you make it down the three flights of stairs, you are winded and a little sweaty. You almost sigh a breath of relief, but then you see a single, very large package sitting beside the front desk. “How am I ever going to get that back to the apartment by myself?” You wonder. You decide to check your mail before you worry too much about the package. You might as well save yourself another trip downstairs. As you check your mail, you notice a letter that makes you stop in your tracks. Scribbled in the top left corner where the return address should be is nothing but the initials, “JG.” JG…You would know that handwriting anywhere.

You quickly make your way back to your apartment, forgetting about the package, focusing on nothing but the letter in your hands. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you slide to the floor and begin reading the letter.

 “My Dearest Sara,

It has been a long three months without you. I am sorry it has taken me so long to write. I got a little lost there for a while. I have made four jumps in the last three months. It has never been this bad before, but I have been steady for a week now so I think this time may stick. I am not sure I will be coming back to you, though.  All the recent jumps have been forward so the only way I can think for us to see each other again is for you to meet me here. I know it will be a long time for you to wait, but I truly hope to see you soon…” You continue reading the letter until you reach the end. “Let’s have dinner. June 25, 2025. Hardy’s Café. 7 o’ clock. Our usual table…”

Five years. You have to wait five years.  Will there be more letters? How did he get a letter to you in the first place?  

You spent the next three years asking yourself those questions every day as you made your way down to the mailbox. Then one day, a letter came.

“My Dearest Sara,

I waited for you, but you never came. I have spent years wondering what could have kept you. Today I finally got my answer. I wanted to yell your name. I wanted to stop you and say hello. But you looked so happy. You and your new family. I am not sure when you met him, so maybe this letter will come as a shock to you, or maybe you are already happily married with a baby on the way. Either way, I wish you well. If you have not met him yet, please know that it is okay. I understand. You have waited so long and for what? Who even knows if I will be able to stick around once you get here? I want you to be happy. I want you to find love. So, go and meet him. Fall in love. Raise your family. Who knows, maybe one day we will meet again. Maybe this is not goodbye, but just in case it is, know that I have loved you so long and I will continue to love you no matter where time may take me. Take care, my dear.

Love,

 J.G.”

“No.” You say aloud. He must be mistaken. You have waited so long and gone through so much already. There is no way you do not end up together.

You are startled by the sound of the mail room door opening, but you do not want any one to see you crying so you look in to your mailbox to hide the tears. Once the stranger is safely at their own box, you begin to walk away, but you are stopped suddenly when you hear him call your name. You realize that he is not a stranger after all. “Kyle, hey!” You reply. The two of you talk for a while until Kyle receives a text message. “Oh shoot,” he says. “I have to go. But let’s grab coffee sometime, yeah?” “Sure. I would love to catch up.” The two of you exchange numbers and you head back to your apartment.

You wake up to the sound of the Television blaring. He must have forgotten to turn it off. As you climb back into bed you check your phone and just happen to notice the date. June 24, 2025. You have been dreading tomorrow for so long now, or have you been excited?  You knew this day would come. You planned to talk to Kyle before-hand, but the time never seemed right. You lie awake knowing that tomorrow has the potential to change everything.

When he finally wakes up you tell him everything. All about the letters, the time travel, all of it.

“So, what are you going to do?” He asks. “I have to go see him.” You reply. “Does that mean you still love him?” “Of course not. I love you.” But as you say the words you realize you do not know whether they are true. You do not know what will happen if you go see him tonight.

It is almost seven o clock. You are caught between wanting to look nice for him but not so nice as to make Kyle worry. You have never been so nervous. As you go to leave Kyle kisses you a little harder than usual. Does he think this is the end? Or are you just imagining things?

You get in your car and head to the restaurant. It is a short drive, about ten minutes. The two of you used to go all the time. You park the car and close your eyes. You still have not decided what you are going to do.

With shaky hands and raspy breath, you grab the handle of the door. Just before you open it, you see him sitting at the table and your mind is made up. You softly whisper,

“Justin.”