Love: (lũv) n. Deep affection and warm feeling towards another.

One word, four letters, and a single meaning. It was strange how one word could change someone's life forever. Strange how one simple word could be so complex. Strange how that when one uttered the three letter phrase "I Love You", they would be willing to do any task, no matter what the price was.

It had been three months since he had seen her face, or more correctly anyone of his family or coworkers faces, and jail was slowly taking a toll on his features. His eyes that had once been full of laughter, had shriveled up into two deep wells of despair. His mouth had curved into what seemed an everlasting frown, and not a glimmer of hope appeared on his face. He had given up almost entirely. There wasn't any point to life any more. What reason would she have to wait for him? None. He had hoped but it seemed that his wishes wouldn't come true. The tears that he had cried before had turned to dust, and he had tried to forget her. But there was still a tiny problem that gnawed at his mind. It was that annoying four letter word, the word that was the reason he was here in the first place, and though try as hard as he could, those three years when they were together were still plastered in his mind.

He sat down on the icy cement ground of his cell and was yet again absorbed with memories. He had found out that other people's faces would fade out of his mind, until soon they were just vaguely distinctive blurs with broken voices to go along with. He only remembered her. Every day the pain got a little worse, until sometimes he felt like dying himself. Then he'd remember her soothing voice, her smile, and the way her curls spilled over her forehead when she laughed. Bits and pieces of other memories whirled in around in his head as he drew his legs up to his chest to try and stay warm.

…

…

Michelle could never cook. Never ever. Many hours were spent swearing at a dish of burnt food in the kitchen trying to figure out what went wrong. He remembered the first time Michelle had met his whole family. She had insisted upon cooking a very fancy meal for his parents and siblings, but all that had ended up happening was a small fire and extremely burnt chicken casserole. He had laughed so hard over the whole situation, he swore his lungs had never been working properly since.

A sound suddenly filled the depressing air of the cramped cell. It was a sound that he hadn't heard in ages, it was the sound that he heard most when he was around her. He realized that the sound of laughter was coming from his own mouth. It sounded strange to his ears, like the sound of rain after a drought. He stood up. Little did he know that the old glint in his eyes had returned for half a second. Walking over to his cot, he gingerly withdrew two pieces of paper from inside his pillow case. Ragged they were, having endured many days of being folded and opened up again. He sighed, reached for his crumbling pencil, and began the next letter.

Dear Sweetheart,

Time passes more slowly each day. In this place an emptiness surrounds you and the only thing that you can do to survive is be whisked away into your own thoughts. I never treated exactly the way you should have been. I should of told you every day since the moment I met you that I loved you. Forgive me please? You are the only reason I've lasted this long. I know that there are a lot of reasons not to wait for me, I know I say this in ever letter, but if I lost you I don't think I could live with myself.

I love you,

Tony

Clutching two ragged pieces of paper, and one slightly new one, He drifted off into the sleep that would soon ensnare him, his last thought aimed at Michelle, curls flying, grinning broadly, laughing at the world.