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To my dear knight errant,
I still remember the first time I saw you, and how could I not remember you?
That day I was running to the bakery. I had woken up to the rooster’s first clucking, which I never paid attention to except when I had to wake up early, but I had closed my eyes quickly and had gotten under the sheets, not that I used to but I had spent most of the night baking and keeping an eye on the hostel’s chores, so it was to be expected when I jumped awake, exalted by the time; that afternoon I would have a visitor, and I needed a loaf of bread to offer them.
Barely an hour had passed since the rooster’s singing, but I knew all the old ladies would go like crazy to empty the baker’s restocking, who would have surely been preparing everything for the clientele since last night. That’s why I like to bake my own bread, do the preparations myself, mix new ingredients… Recently, I made a lavender one, it wasn’t too bad, but it trustly improves with butter. If you stop by, I’ll bake you some to try.
A quick bath, a clean dress and a basket in my hand. I didn't want to waste time on details like tying my hair or choosing something better for later, I just needed to get there, buy some bread and then stop by the milkman.
I had arrived late, but I had the bread, not a rustic or a ciabatta, a brioche, but that was better than nothing. If I couldn’t put something substantial to eat, I would cook a nice sweet out of it.
Luckily, the last guest had left a few days before, so I didn’t have to worry about staying in the same place all day in case they called me. I went straight to the chickens’ eggs, a routine I always stick to, and then continued to the milk churn, leaving everything on the kitchen counter.
That day it took him a little longer than usual to fill it, although I didn’t really mind it, the conversations were always quite pleasant, and I had plenty of time to get back. According to the letter I had received, you would arrive in the afternoon.
The bucket was pretty heavy, although I was used to it after so many times, and it was only going to be the two of us, so I didn’t have it filled completely either. If I’m honest, even though you probably already know, I wasn’t expecting your visit. A letter from the kingdom asking me to prepare a bedroom for a journey, in this small town? And not that I thought much about it, but I was surprised when you told me who you were. At first I thought you would come with armor, but now that I think about it, it was a pretty stupid idea.
I was in the middle of the town, when I saw you. Impossible to forget that moment. Skin so pale that it perfectly showed your flushed cheeks and the sweat that made your forehead and chest shine. By your side, a heavy luggage, surely the cause of those gasps. Your lost gaze looking for a familiar face, which I highly doubted, as I had never seen you around. At that moment, with your loose dress and angelic face, partially covered with a hat, I thought I saw a fairy that had gotten lost on her way to the forest.
I couldn’t help but to smile when I saw you, when you approached me, and when we formally introduced ourselves. You were the one I had been waiting for. You arrived earlier than it usually was, and I couldn’t be happier about it, because that was the first time our hands touched, when you wanted to help me with the jug of milk, grabbing a handle, stroking my hands subtly, waiting for me to let go.
I had never had such a close relationship with a client: cooking and having breakfast together, even helping me with my chores despite my refusals, but you are too stubborn to take a no for an answer. In the end I have to go to your room to wake you up because otherwise you’d ignore me, pretending to be angry seeing that I had already done everything, and then joking about sleeping in the same bed: “That way I’m sure I won’t oversleep”, you said.
I didn’t know what you were doing. I showed you the town, we went into the forest for picnics, bathing under the waterfall… and there I noticed the way your gaze vanished, almost as if you got lost every time you entered the forest, as if it wasn’t you, as if there was someone else there.
I could not imagine that at night, you would go there alone, until one day I discovered you sneaking out of the house, as if you didn’t want me to find out, as if I could ever hate you for that.
I didn’t want to upset you, I didn’t want to make you angry, and I still did. I never could have imagined that it would be the last time we touched each other. I remember it perfectly, your cold hands on my head, bringing our foreheads together, tears in our eyes. You cried for our farewell, I was crying because I wasn’t understanding anything. You stood on tiptoe and kissed my forehead, your hands caressed my face as you released me.
In a few minutes I was alone, and I didn’t understand why I was in the middle of the garden, crying and in my pajamas.
The memories we made were gone, but I felt an emptiness, a pain that stabbed me in my chest every time I passed by where your room was, every time I sat in the garden and looked at the stars, that for some reason, I knew their names.
One day I found your ring, the one you gave me, under the bed. I guess that, when you tried to take all your stuff, you dropped it and didn’t notice. I cleaned the dust, looked at it strangely, although the anguish rose everytime I had it in front of me; and as soons as I put it on, I cried. I cried like I had never cried before: I was short of breath, my head was spinning, and you weren’t by my side.
I still don’t understand why you did it. I was mulling over it. Protection, fear, rejection…? I still don’t know why you did that, why you took me away from you without explaining it to me. Aoba… I need you. I didn’t know how intense love could be until I met you, how interesting life could be, so alive and joyful… I thought I knew what happiness was, but I was wrong. Now I feel like I only walk in misery; the routine that was so easy for me, now overwhelms me, and the town that once was my world, suffocates me.
Every day I remember you, what we used to do together, and a smile crosses my lips, although almost every time, I begin to notice an itch on my nose and my eyes watering. I can’t help but break, I hate not having you by my side. A part of me is sure that when I wake up, I will see you lying in your bed, rolled up on the sheets, and that when I approach you, half asleep, you will smile at me saying good morning. The other part knows it’s not true, and I only hurt myself more. Do you remember when you sat in the shade of the garden, under that tree? I always looked out the window to see if you were there, and now it’s a habit that has stayed with me, so I peek out the window, gently not to move the curtains too much so you wouldn’t see me and not disturb you in your reading or your nap. Now, everytime I do it, I freeze, staring at nothing, not knowing what to do for several minutes. At least I have your memory, and that makes me a little bit happier.
I hope to see you again, even if just for a moment before I take my last breath.
Always yours,
that farmer who once knew what it was like to live.
