"Dear Alfred, I miss you…" No… Scratch that. "Dear Alfred, I love you…" Not good enough… Arthur had crumpled up the papers he has been writing on. He still had enough to write a letter to Alfred.
He was in a dark, slightly lit room. Candles burnt and dripped with hot wax. It smelt just like honey in the room. It was cold. He needed more 'depressing' scenery to be in. Truly, it was outright creepy.
It has been four months since he hasn't heard a word from Alfred. Alfred never called, or ever wrote letters to him. It made Arthur sad he couldn't contact him. So he decided to write a love letter, but he denied it was a love letter.
Days past since he was writing that letter. He had to think of ways to greet Alfred with his thoughtfulness. He walked along the streets, people walked past him. He then stopped at a flower shop and read the store's name. He smiled and pushed the door and walked right in.
He had to think of something Alfred would like. He browsed past the roses. The lilies and the Daises. The Orange blossoms would be wonderful because of the eternal love he feels for Alfred. He picked out the red roses, the Orange Blossoms, and the Orchids. He thought this combo would be very special. He gave the lady the money she wanted and he walked out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
He laid on his bed; he looked at his beloved guitar he owned. He remembered the times he and Alfred would sing silly songs together for their own entertainment. The acoustic shined with its wood and two toned color. The deep wooden red at the bottom and the lighter color at the top. He looked at the signature of Alfred's name right on it. It was fairly big, he remembered, "Arthur, I want to write my name on your guitar."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because if I ever leave, I want you to have something to remember me."
"Oh Alfred you don't have to."
"Trust me; you'll be glad I did this." Arthur smiled at that memory which flashed through his head. He reached over and picked up the old guitar and brushed his hand over the signature. He smiled and a tear ran down his cheek. He just stared at the guitar for hours.
He woke up to find his guitar next to him in bed. He smiled and just fell asleep again. It was his day off.
He woke up at noon and sat up. He had a pleasant dream about being on the beach with Alfred. And which they did many times in his life. Arthur finally had an idea for his love letter.
He threw off the covers and walked to his desk. He found the burnt out candles tilting in opposite directions. He looked down at one of the blank sheets of paper…
He sat down in his chair and held up a pen. He stared into the paper and leaned down and began to write.
It was two hours before he got done. He looked at the beauty of the rough draft of his love letter. He then pulled out another paper and began editing the rough draft. He found mistakes and things he should change. He corrected it all. And he began to write on the separate sheet of paper.
"My dearest Alfred,
I trust you are well my darling.
I just wanted to tell you that you've always been a wonderful part of my life. Whenever I think of you I melt and get a fuzzy feeling on the inside. There's just something about you which I can't help liking.
What human being would not appreciate your gorgeous deep blue eyes? They've always reminded me of electricity and I've often wondered if they can glow in the dark and light up an entire room at night. Maybe one day we should have plugged the TV into your eye sockets and it will run on the electricity generated by your lovely blue eyes.
How could any human being miss your beautiful radiant blonde hair flowing in the sunlight? Such beauty reminds me of the colour of canaries. Please don't take that the wrong way, because I think canaries are cute, even though they bite.
I've always enjoyed walking along the beach with you. Just the two of us alone, walking along while the sun sets. I know there's always the fear of not finding our way back in the dark (because beaches don't have street lights installed) but fear not my love, because I bought one of those LED torches one day before you left, so rest assured we will be OK.
My love for you is sweeter than sugar, and there is no other love for me ...having said that I do love my guitar which is great, because I love to sing songs with you about silly things. It's also cute how you sit there fuming away in boredom... or even hysterical laughter, but that's beside the point. My point is that I love you and my love for you is unique (isn't it weird how the word 'unique' and 'eunuch' sound the same? The word UNIX also sounds similar, but 'Chimpanzee' doesn't.)
I can't remember if I've already told you this but I really do love your smile. It's such a beautiful thing to look at and it's one of the many reasons I love being with you my love. Sometimes I wish I could do nothing but stare at your smile all day, but I'm not sure that's a good idea my love, as people will probably think I'm some kind of nut case and I might get taken away by the men in white coats.
The thought of you is always in my heart.
Yours forever, with all my heart,
Arthur"
He then sighed and put the pen down. And he looked at the page. He smiled and kissed the paper. Tasting the ink. He then looked around and he shall wait for the next day to send that love letter to Alfred.
He put the love letter in a fancy frame. And he held that bouquet of flowers. He held up a sharpie and took it to the guitar, he wrote his signature on the guitar and what remains is, "Alfred F. Jones + Arthur Kirkland." With a heart around it. Arthur smiled and took these things to his car.
He went to an airport and he got on the plane. He waited until he can finally meet up with his 'lover.' He fell asleep carrying the things he will bring to Alfred.
It was a beautiful sunny day. And he was dropped off at a cemetery. Arthur sighed and looked out. He walked along the graves of people who have died. And he found a large tombstone shaped like a cross. It read, "R.I.P Alfred F. Jones beginning of time – May 5th 2012"
Arthur set down the bouquet of flowers, the frame of the love letter, and the guitar. He stood over Alfred's grave. And he stood there for the longest time. He held his head and cried. Holding up a handkerchief to his face.
He brushed his hand against the tombstone and left Alfred's grave walking away. He saw a taxi parked up for him, and he left the cemetery to join the ride. He walked into the taxi, and looked at the cemetery. This will be one of the many times Arthur will visit Alfred.
