Media Room

Star Crossed Lovers

Dear Britney,
I am writing you from the broken hinges, cracked windows and rusted faucets that we once called our home. Its been decades since we’d last touched, much less talked. I Thought I would write you anyway though. Seeing how time lacks the ability to wane or wither love. Especially ours. I bet you’re wondering what the hell I’m up to these days. Well not much, though I have come far in my career since 1936. Yes, it has been that long. A whole seventy-nine. Can you believe that? But by the plethora of wrinkles on my face, you can surely tell that time has flown. To me, these years have been the longest of my life. Only forty since you were found and thirty-nine since you were buried. But I have lived but one dread filled life following this. Why? Because I lack the closer I have required for just under a century. I apologize If my tone comes off as anything but serious and respectful. I have tried for many years to keep my composure but it seems like I now lack that capacity. Honestly, there is just so much tension convened in my chest; the last place you touched me. Before, it happened. I had never been convinced of iniquitous plaguing anyone’s soul. I had always thought that while bad may have happened, only good intentions were behind every action. When I validated your passing, is when fate had a better argument than I. He woke you up with a punch to the face. You clenched your bleeding nose expecting ¨just another beating¨. But this one wasn’t one of his usual alcoholic rages that you had grown used to. He had found out what we had successfully hidden for the past three years. He found out about us. I remember your family being extremely religious, carrying a strong prejudice for many generations. Your father would not let your sin go unnoticed. You were on the ground being kicked in the ribs. With each time his foot came back you pleaded all while trying to maintain some kind of breathing. You almost had passed out but you were to be punished in a way you would remember. ————–We were ¨star crossed lovers¨, as you often referred to us as. Unfortunately we had attained this name under the means of irony.

-Crystal