**The Last Letter**
Sarah sat at the old wooden desk in her bedroom, the soft light of dusk filtering through the
curtains. In front of her lay a single sheet of paper, slightly crumpled at the edges. She
stared at it for a long time, her hands trembling as she picked up the pen.
It had been three months since Jake had gone. Three months since that phone call, the one
that shattered her world into pieces she still couldn't fit back together. They had been
together for five years—five years of laughter, late-night talks, and plans for the future. They
had dreamed of a small house by the lake, with a garden where they would grow flowers and
vegetables. They talked about kids, even picked out names. But all those dreams vanished
in an instant.
She remembered the last time she saw him, waving goodbye as he drove off to work, not
knowing it would be the last time. A car accident, they said. He didn’t feel any pain, they
assured her, as if that would make it any easier. But nothing could ease the hollow ache that
had settled in her chest since that day.
Now, sitting at her desk, Sarah felt the overwhelming weight of all the things left unsaid. The
apologies, the "I love yous," the future they never had the chance to share. The words
tumbled through her mind, but none seemed enough. How could she capture everything she
felt in just a few lines on a page?
She began to write, the ink flowing as tears blurred her vision.
_"Dear Jake,_
_I miss you. Every day, every hour, I miss you more than I ever thought possible. I miss the
way you smiled at me when you came home, the sound of your voice, the warmth of your
hand in mine. I miss the life we were supposed to have together, the dreams we never got to
live._
_I’m sorry, Jake. I’m sorry for all the times I got mad over small things, for the days I was too
busy to really listen to you. I’m sorry I never told you just how much you meant to me—how
much you still mean to me._
_You were my everything. And now, without you, I feel so lost._
_I don’t know how to move on from this. Part of me doesn’t want to. But I know you would
want me to be happy, to keep living. So I’ll try, Jake. I’ll try for you._
_I love you. I always will._
_Yours forever,_
_Sarah."_
She finished the letter, her hand shaking as she placed the pen down. She folded the paper
carefully, placing it in an envelope. She knew it would never be sent, never be read, but
somehow, it brought her a small sense of closure.
As Sarah sealed the envelope, she whispered, "Goodbye, Jake." The words hung in the air,
soft and sad, but in them was a promise—to carry his memory with her, always, as she tried
to find her way back to life.
The room grew darker as night fell, but a small light remained, flickering softly in the heart
that had loved and lost.
