Grief is love with nowhere to go.

by ThroughTheBookingGlass

Summary:

Violet struggles to write a letter for a grieving client when they ask her to write the words they wish they had said to someone who had died. As Violet writes for her client she realizes that she is also writing an unsent letter filled with her own unsaid words.

Notes:

Hi, this is my first time writing a story so please be kind. I have Dysgraphia which makes writing non-automatic and frustrating for me. If you see any typos I would appreciate it if you would let me know in a way that consists of positive criticism. I hope you enjoy.

Violet sat at her desk, once again staring at the smooth metal of her hands contrasted against the darker typewriter.

Waiting for her next client to walk in through the doors asking for her to write for them like always. This time it was different though.

A modestly dressed woman is todays client. "I want you to write to myself" the woman said a deep hollow in her eyes, "Write what I wished I had said before he died."

Violet understood assignments and protocols. After all typing letters for people is like following orders.

But this, writing words for people who would never read them was the hardest task.

She typed: Dear,

Then stopped.

Major Gilbert had died before she could understand what he meant to her. She'd written hundreds of letters since, translating the emotions of others, learning love through their words.

Yet not once had she written to him. She never got the chance to say: I understand now. I know what I love you means.

Violet pulled the paper free and began again, typing a letter, for her client, for herself. For people who would never get to read them.

Thank you for teaching me I had a heart. I love you. Goodbye.