Published: September 7, 2011
Since receiving your letter, I have read and reread it. It is hugely precious to me, and I have stored it in the safest place I know in the cover of my favourite copy of loveless, the one with the white cover that you bought me. The one that you laughed at me once about, when you found I kept it against my heart. I couldn't tell you then why it was there, and muttered something about armour, but I'll tell you now it's so that I can keep you close to me.
Yours was not the only Valentine I received, but it's the one that I kept. I've stayed close to you in the passing months, worried that your letter might just have been a flight of fancy, or a harsh joke. I know you're a physical man Angeal, you've proved it on the battlefield and off, and I assumed that all I was to you was company and a friend.
I had accepted that role, relished in it in a way, and leaving it behind now frightens me, yet I am willing to move to a different scene in our act. We have fought together since your confession, and it has been so long since you spoke that perhaps you have moved on. Yet you are not the type for that. I was always the flighty one, and knowing that you'll worry about me betraying you upsets me yet that is my burden for being the way that I am.
I've received beautiful poems before, declarations of courtly love and lust, but your letter meant more than theirs. They spent months wrapping their feelings in words, whilst you just brought out what you felt, and told me. I like "fancy phrases" yes, but I want them to come from the heart. I can't promise you loyalty Angeal. I wish I could, but we both know that faithfulness is a concept I am unfamiliar with you are the only living man who knows why. But "Of course...I'll come back to you. Even if you don't promise to wait. I'll return knowing you'll be here." I hope you do not object to me using that quotation. It says it better than I can. Angeal, you're my rock, my security and safety. I couldn't leave, even if I wanted to. It would tear me to pieces.
I'd wanted to write you a Valentine years ago, but I thought you would laugh at my carefully chosen words. You've always taught me to be strong, to be a warrior, and I thought you'd see me as a teenage girl. If you are pathetic for not saying, then so am I. I just didn't want to let you down.
I promise that you haven't driven me away. We make each other whole, and over the past few months I've tried to show you that, so that when you read this you won't be horrified or turn away. I trust you Angeal. You always were my guardian, at the worst moments of my life you gave me strength. The stronger part of me, the part that did was right rather than what was easy. As you proved by your letter, it was the braver part of me as well.
I've filled a page now of my writing, and I still haven't said it. It came so easily to you, in your brutal scrawl, but I'm struggling to say it. I'll close my eyes and write it. I love you Angeal. There. On the paper, for the world to see, to laugh at and ridicule. The truth Angeal, is that I do love you, but that those three words do not do justice to how I feel. I should be a poet, yet the language we speak cruelly denies me the words I need for this.
I love you Angeal.