Writer's Blog

I’m writing this on what would have been our first anniversary. I hope you’ll remember, but I can’t expect you to; there are probably more important things gracing your mind in Heaven. I’ll leave this letter by our spot, and hopefully you’ll receive it. I feel closer to you just by writing.

Today my mum came over and we spoke for a while, reminiscing about the holiday to Greece all those years ago. I hadn’t wanted to go, but my mum promised I would have “the time of my life”. Being the moody teenager I was, I grudgingly agreed, sure she was just saying that because she didn’t want me staying home. I thanked her this afternoon for forcing me to go; it brought me to you.

Do you remember when we first met? To this day, the moment is etched most vividly in my mind. You were sitting on the beach, staring with your beautiful cerulean eyes to the sea of the same colour. You looked so perfect, Evvy, with your chocolate hair blowing effortlessly in the wind. I never asked you what you were doing down there; I assumed the reason was too personal for me to hear.

When I saw you- God, that was something to remember. You immediately blew me away, giving off such a fantastic glow that left me blinded. You seemed like an angel that day, Evvy. God has a weird way of foreshadowing things, doesn’t He?

I was hesitant to come closer than four metres, because I didn’t want to shatter this perfect image of you. It could have also been my self-consciousness at the time, the feeling that you would find me repulsive. If only I had known you better then… you never cared about my outward appearances, and you were always the first to let me know that I wasn’t completely hideous.

When you first spoke, I swear I almost died. Your voice was smooth, like melted chocolate, making my skin tingle unexpectedly. You greeted me with a short ‘hello’, sensing my gaze on you. I had replied with a shaky ‘hi’, and I know I sounded incredibly stupid with my pubescent, cracking voice.

Who knew that the conversation would flow so easily after that? I sure didn’t. But much to my delight it did, and over the next hours we talked about everything and nothing. What were we doing there? Where did we call home? How much did we hate travelling with our families? I don’t think I had laughed that hard in the longest time. You made me feel so at ease, like I didn’t have anything to hide from you. Thank you for making me feel comfortable, Evangeline. You forever changed my life.

I don’t think either of us realised that we would fall for each other like we did. We were only friends then, and I recall that it was just a week or so before I realised I liked you more than just a good pal. But as far as I knew, you weren‘t interested… I wasn’t stupid enough to throw away a good friendship for a silly crush. But you entranced me with your looks, your personality, your silly quirks… simply, you entranced me.

You came to me one day, troubled and looking more miserable than I had ever seen you. I asked what was wrong, and in response was met with your tears. Something changed that day, Evvy. You allowed me to see the full you. Not just the cheerfulness, not just the good, but the vulnerable and despondent side as well. I hugged you tight, your hands wrapped around my waist. I wasn’t going to question, judge or scold you, and I’m sure you knew that.

‘Friends don’t let friends fall in love, do they Danny?’ you had questioned, and I vividly remember that you were staring at me with such a concentrated gaze that I couldn’t help but feel as though you were peering into my soul, the places where I held my true feelings for you.

‘Depends’, I had answered, ‘do you love someone?’ You nodded your head, sitting up but still holding onto my waist, making me feel dizzy. ‘Who is it?’ I hoped that it was me, but I don’t think I ever was fully ready for the answer you supplied.


That word, Evvy. One word changed it all for us. We crossed the lines of friends and lovers that night. You were my first kiss, and consequently, my first love.

God must have loved us then. Even when we left, we were only a bus ride away from each other. First dates turned into second dates, and before long we were near inseparable. My mum even joked that we should ‘get married already’ as we spent enough time together. She foreshadows things well too, don’t you agree?

The night I asked you to marry me… that was probably the single most terrifying day of my life. We were in my bed, watching that stupid, mushy film you had chosen. You had a magazine held up close to your face, reading intently; I was trying not to forget the words I had attempted to memorise. You asked me what was wrong; it always did amaze me how you never had any trouble detecting my mood.
I replied with a ‘nothing’, feeling it was now or never.

‘Will you marry me?’

I was probably far too blunt then, but nothing else came to my mind. I can see you laughing, me having all these words planned out and only those four being articulated.

You stared at me, mouth ajar, and I recall this terrible feeling running through me. You weren’t ready, you didn’t want to, you wanted to leave me.

A kiss. You answered with a kiss, Evvy, and I can’t have pictured it any other way. That night, we made love for the first time, and that seemed more than anything to forever bond our commitment to each other. We didn’t just ‘have sex’; that was the ultimate and supreme form of love.

The last, final moment that will never leave my thoughts is our wedding day. You personified perfection so fantastically, I felt like a mere mortal in your God-like presence. As you walked down the aisle, I felt connected to you in such a way that left tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

‘Daniel Fletcher, do you take Evangeline Williams to be your lawfully wedded wife?’ How else was I supposed to respond to that but yes. Yes, yes, yes.

I held my breath as you made your vow. As many times as you had promised you would never leave me, there were ten times as many instances where I feared something better would come along and I would be left in the cold, forgotten. But you replied, ‘yes’, and with that, we were married, bonded, united until death do us part.

Death came far too soon, Evvy. What should have been sixty years of happiness and bliss was instead a mere three months. What should have been us growing old together was instead one man never reaching twenty-one. What should have been Danny Fletcher and Evangeline Williams turned into Danny Fletcher, the widow.

I know you would say not to blame myself for what happened, but it was my fault. I could have driven with you. I could have been there as you passed. I could have been there to comfort you. I could have been there to make sure you were okay. At least, I could have died with you.

When the doctors told me you had passed, my entire world was completely shattered. I wanted to die, Evvy. I didn’t know what to do with myself; my wife was dead and in turn my life was completely void of any hope. At your funeral, I didn’t know what to say when they asked me to give a eulogy. I didn’t know how to do you justice. So I said nothing, refusing with nothing more than a curt shake of my head.

I’ll always remember you, Evvy; I’ll never forget the million ways that I loved you.

I loved that you never were concerned with the obsession to blend in; you wanted to stand out.

I loved how you giggled whenever I would adjust my glasses, because it was ‘just too cute’.

I loved how every night, before we went to sleep, you would whisper ‘I love you’ into my ear softly, as if it was a well-kept secret.

I loved how you would build me up when I felt down, doing anything necessary to make sure I was smiling.

But most of all, I loved you for you.

And guess what?

I still do.

I will always love you, Evangeline Williams.

So as you grace Heaven with your presence, please remember me, and all the good times we shared. When I join you, I want to be able to continue the life we never got a chance to live.

With all the love in the world,

Daniel Fletcher