LETTERS TO KIARA
Dear diary
I don't know how this should be done. Kiara said I should treat the diary as a friend. And she said I can give it a name too? I don't think I will go that far. To me this is just a diary. It's a book in which I can write and pour out my emotions. Hopefully this book will be helpful.
How do I even start?
Should I start by…something like my name is Jeremy Richard Rain. I'm the younger of two boys …..wait, this sounds so wrong. Why does it feel like I am introducing myself at some funny interview? Do I even have to introduce myself?
I really don't know how to do this! Why should we write down our thoughts anyway? Why can't they just stay where they belong – in our heads and our hearts?
I don't know; part of my heart wants to go on, but the other part thinks it's not necessary. What happens if someone picks this diary and reads everything? Where should I keep it? I've never been good at hiding stuff.
And my hand is already painful? Do we really have to write it down…why does it feel like I am talking to myself?
What if…instead of making these diary entries, I write letters instead? And I will address all my letters to Kiara. It will feel more realistic and easier to do. I want to do this. Because she has a diary like mine, and I know that she is updating it, I will also update mine. I want to write letters to Kiara.
Letters to Kiara.
Letter 1
Kiara, this is my very first letter to you, which will never be delivered to you. Maybe one day I might be able to deliver it, but I honestly doubt it. It was a pleasure to see you today. My soul is at peace, I am a happy man. Oh Kiara, if only it were possible, you could sneak and come here every single day. I wish we were little birds. We could fly and meet in a secret place, and we both would fly very high up in the sky, away from anything and anyone.
I love you Kiara.
Your one and only, JRR
***
Jeremy curled up in bed, smiling from ear to ear. He turned around to face the wall, and realised that he was unable to sleep. He wanted to say more. He needed to write another letter. He sat up, pulled the diary and with pen in hand, he smiled broadly as he wrote,
***
Letters to Kiara.
Letter 2
Kiara, I am happy, but one thing still haunts me. Do the two of you make love? I mean, of course you would, but do you enjoy it, my love? Does he touch you all over, kissing even the places that I also kiss? Does he claim you in the same way I claim you, and how do you respond, my love? Do you like it, Kiara? Do you surrender and give him your all? Do you look forward to the intimate moments that you share with him? This thought kills me every day, and I don't know what I can do to get it out of my mind.
Kiara, I truly love you.
Much love, JRR.
***
Starting to feel slightly depressed, Jeremy threw the diary aside, switched off the side lamp and started fighting the images coming up in his mind. The idea of Vine with his woman drove him mad. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He kept telling himself that it was best for him to not think much about that, but then the mind has a way of dwelling on that which is painful and depressing. Jeremy sighed and opened up his eyes again. He sat up in bed and switched on the light. The diary was just next to him on the bed. He took it.
***
Letters to Kiara
Letter 3
Until when will I be a slave of my own imagination? You will have to tell me, Kiara. You will have to tell me everything that he does to you. The next time we meet, you and I will talk. I know that the talk will be very uncomfortable. I don't enjoy making you uncomfortable, but I also need to cater for myself, my love. For the sake of my sanity, I will have to. I also need to know what I need to know.
The next time we meet, my love, we will talk about the very uncomfortable topic. We will talk about everything that he does to you, and you will tell me whether or not you enjoy it. And I am going to ask you one more very difficult question, whose answer I even dread to hear. I want to know, Kiara, if you love him. I deserve to know that.
My heart can love only you.
With love, JRR
***
Jeremy curled up in bed, crying. He could not believe that he himself had taken her back to the Pinkerton mansion…
***
Letters to Kiara
Letter 4
My love, I feel useless as a man. What kind of man drives his own woman and drops her off at the home of another? Why do I not have the strength to take you back to be with me?
I loved you first, Kiara, because I saw you first, and I took you as mine. My love, I waited for you, when you told me that we could not date until I turned sixteen. It was the longest wait of my life, but I was patient, for I had no desire to be with any other person.
I love you, Kiara, but I curse myself, because today I drove and I left you in the arms of another.
Am I that weak? Am I just some useless, worthless jerk, who is unable to fight for what he believes in?
You are mine, Kiara. Whether Vine chooses to believe it or not is his own dilemma. You are mine.
He snatched you away from me, and I am failing to snatch you back. I do not have the power to do so, although I would have loved to. What should I do? How should I fight for you?
My dearest Kiara, I will forever love you.
With all my heart, JRR.
***
He only realised at that moment that he had never taken time to let the pain out, to grieve the loss of his true love. For all he knew, Jeremy had not even come to the point of acceptance. He must have been still in denial, but had kept himself too busy, pushing the issue to the back of his mind. He had flatly refused to dwell on it, fearing the too deep pain that it was bound to bring, and in the process he had prolonged his grieving period.
Jeremy wailed out loud, came out of bed and cried out some more. He pulled off the bed linen and threw everything on the floor. And he kicked the bed. The pain was on his toes, yet he seemed not to care. He continued to kick.
The pain kept growing. Jeremy knew that it was just the beginning. Ever since the incident, he had never cried out that much. He let it out, crying like a little baby. Images of Vine flashed in his mind, and when they did flash, he cried bitterly.
He moved to the window and looked outside. It was dark outside, but because he knew the place so well, he saw what he wanted to see. The area where she used to dance and play around in circles. He saw the area where she would look up and call for him to come down. Jeremy's tears ran uncontrollably. He opened the window and continued to look.
"Kiara," he whispered. "Did you really have to love another man?"
He was looking down, hoping for her to appear. He wanted to be a little boy again, and watch as Kiara held a doll in her hands, playing outside. And then he wanted her to appear again, in the maid uniform. He wanted her to throw something at his window and call down for him to come down.
And he wanted to run down and pick her up, kiss her very slowly and with great passion, and to make love to the only woman he had ever made love to; the first, true and only love of his heart.