My favorite photo of all time.
Chasing back the tears from my eyes, I ran my finger over her face.
She was so perfect to me.
Slowly setting the portfolio down, I picked her letter back up and continued.
Impressive, hey? You are gifted beyond words, Rune. I knew when we sent in your work that you would be accepted. I may be no expert on photography, but even I could see how you manage to capture images no one else could. How you have a style that is so completely unique.
So special … as special as special can be.
The picture at the end is my favorite. Not because it is of me, but because I knew the passion that picture reignited. I saw, that day on the beach, the fire inside spark back to life.
It was the first day that I knew you would be okay when I was gone. Because I started to see the Rune I know and love breaking back through. The boy who will live a life for us both. The boy now healed.
Glancing back at Poppy’s face, looking up at me from the picture, I couldn’t help but think of the exhibition at NYU. She must have already known that day that I had been accepted.
Then I thought of the final picture. Esther. The picture that the patron had exhibited as the final piece. The picture of his late wife who died too young. The picture that didn’t change the world, but showed the woman who had changed his.
Nothing described this picture, currently staring back at me, more than this explanation. Poppy Litchfield was just a seventeen-year-old girl from a small town in Georgia. Yet, from the day I had met her, she tipped my world on its head. And even now, after her death, she was still changing my world. Enriching and filling it with a selfless beauty that would never be rivaled.
Picking the letter back up, I read:
This brings me to my final box, Rune. The one I know you will protest about most, but the one that you must follow through.
I know right now you are confused, but before I let you go, I need you to know something.
Being loved by you was the biggest accomplishment of my life. I didn’t have long and I had nowhere near enough time to be with you how I wanted. But in those years, in my final months, I knew what real love was. You showed me that. You brought smiles to my heart and light to my soul.
But best of all, you brought me your kisses.
As I write this and reflect on the past several months since you came back into my life, I can’t be bitter. I can’t be sad that our time is limited. I can’t be sad that I won’t get to live out my life by your side. Because I had you for as long as I could, and that was perfect. To be loved so fiercely, so intensely, once again, was enough.
But it won’t be for you. Because you deserve to be loved, Rune.
When you found out I was sick, I know you struggled with not being able to cure me. To save me. But the more I think about it, the more I believe that it wasn’t you who was meant to save me. Rather, I was meant to save you.
Maybe through my passing, through our journey together, you found your way back to you. The most important adventure I’d ever have.
You broke through the darkness and let in the light.
And that light is so pure and strong that it will carry you through … it will lead you to love.
As you read this, I can picture you shaking your head. But, Rune, life is short. However, I have learned that love is limitless and the heart is big.
So open your heart, Rune. Keep it open and allow yourself to love and to be loved.
In a few moments I want you to open the final box. But first, I simply want to say thank you.
Thank you, Rune. Thank you for loving me so much that I felt it every minute of every day. Thank you for my smiles, your hand so tightly holding mine…
For my kisses. All one thousand. Every one was cherished. Every one was adored.
As were you.
Know that even though I’m gone, Rune, you will never be alone. I’ll be the hand forever holding yours.
I’ll be the footprints walking beside you in the sand.
I love you, Rune Kristiansen. With all of my heart.
I cannot wait to see you in your dreams.
Dropping the letter, I felt the silent tears trickling down my face. Lifting my hand, I brushed them away. I took a deep breath, before lifting the final box onto my bed. It was larger than the rest.
I carefully opened the lid and pulled out the contents. My eyes closed as I realized what it was. Then I read Poppy’s handwritten message tied around the lid:
I stared at the large mason jar in my hand. I stared at the many blue paper hearts gathered inside. Blank paper hearts, pushing against the glass. The label on the jar read:
Clutching the jar to my chest, I lay back on my bed and just breathed. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, staring at the ceiling, reliving every moment I’d ever had with my girl.
But when the night drew in and I thought of everything she’d done, a happy smile spread on my lips.