By Chris Devlin
AN: Well, yet another personal fic. This one is kinda based on my own current relationship situation (If you can even call it that). Anyway I hope you like it. Like most of my other personal fics it was written quickly and out of the blue.
I know it's coming. Every day I check the mail with anticipation, as well as trepidation, knowing full well that I probably won't like the contents. I flip through the rest of the mail, searching in-vain for something I sub-consciously know won't be there. And yet today, something tells me that it will arrive.
The letter.
The letter I dread reading but can't think about anything else.
The letter that will bring to an end what we had, long before we had the chance to make anything of it.
The letter that I will no-doubt keep for years to come as a memento of my feelings for her.
I sit in the front room, the TV in front of me noisily reporting world news. The sound from the set passes me by as I concentrate my entire attention onto listening for the mailbox. In my thoughts I remember the phone conversation we had, a non-committal, emotionless exchange of words, ending with the revelation that she deemed it necessary to write to me. That's when I knew it was over. Being told that I was to receive "a letter" chilled me more than anything in my life. There is no way that it's going to tell me how much she loves me and that we are staying together. They never do.
The clatter of the mailbox outside snaps me out of my thoughts and I get up to check for the expected. I half-walk, half-run to the box, a feeling of ambivalence controlling my body. Reaching the box, I open it and extract the mail. Turning back to the house I begin to leaf through the envelopes. As I reach the door I see it, lettered in her meticulously neat handwriting. I go back in, and sit down in the front room again, dumping all the mail bar the letter on the table. I examine the envelope, not wanting to open it straight away. I run my fingers over it, feeling the ever so slightly rough texture beneath my fingertips. I move them over the address, feeling the bumps in the paper, the closest I may ever get to her again. I examine the words closely. My address, the one so familiar to me. And my name.
Ash Ketchum
I flip it over and look at the back. In the same lettering is the return address. Her address. Not so familiar, but equally important to me. And her name.
Misty Waterflower
Bracing myself for the full brunt of a woman's emotional outlet, I move my fingers under the flap and tear it open, and await the inevitable.
AN: God that sucked! But then it's my feelings so I can knock it. Anyway, just to say that I have a couple of fics on the way. One is a challenge that I was set a few weeks ago (I really should get round to that), and the other another AAM story that I came up with. The AAML will probably be up by the end of next week (I hope). Oh well. Read and review, and check out my updated profile.