*...a purposeful life...

short story copyright mine...

Dear Christian Mittelberg,

There seems to be little the world can offer when day to day, time passes. Are we all resolved to be trapped in the cycle of growing up, getting married, and then...?

If my life could be made miserable, I would not think that it could be; not least of all, by her.

She had a strange name. Arielle. In your time, perhaps strange names like hers would be all the rage. But in mine, people had proper names like Jane, or Susan, Christian names like James or Charles. Arielle sounded like it was out of a book, like she was a faerie sprung out of Neverland into real life; bewitching, captivating, me.

At forty, I never thought that I would fall in love, again.

The first time I fell in love was when I was seventeen. A girl, older than me by a few months. She lived across the road from my family, and we would often meet by chance, at the town's only bookstore sometimes, at others near the playing field where I would sit on the swings, despite being slightly overgrown for them. When I swing, I feel as though time stood still, that by closing my eyes and imagine, I am flying, I can conquer the world. I believe that one day, they would take down the swings, take down the slides, and replace them with boring, safe toys. Maybe not for a decade more. But things are changing rapidly, and I hope that you will always remember that feeling when you are in the air, legs dangling and all.

When we moved, I missed the swings. And I also missed the feeling of being in love, of having someone to miss you, to support you and to just have someone close by, smelling her hair, loving her outline, her voice, her everything. Strangely I never had that desire again, not for any other woman. Women found me, I dated them. But I felt that deep inside, no one truly could see me or know me for the person I was deep inside. I was devastated by thinking that maybe life is meant to be that way, perhaps you never find the perfect one for you, someone who could love you for the way you are inside. Someone who bothers enough to look out for you, in such a tender way that moves you deeply. Maybe I was too perfectionistic in that sense. But Christian, I could never stomach the fact that there would be a woman living in my house, with me, someone I did not love and could not love for the rest of my life.

And so the years passed till I met Arielle. She was just a wee wisp of a girl, fragile looking, almost like the wind could blow her down. But beneath that exterior was a woman made of steel. She exasperated me like no one else can. Most of all, her dancing eyes made me feel alive again, as though I could live a thousand lives with her. I think I never realised how happy I was then. It's only when you have time off from your daily schedule then you can be alone and think of how good God is, how much people mean to you in your life. And loving Arielle is like loving life itself. I could not imagine how life was, without her before.

I know I will never get to see you. In fact, I don't know how much longer I have, to live. But Christian, don't think of me as someone you never knew. Time stole away my health and youth, and now it is impossible to provide for you and Arielle the life that I have always longed for. Why do people die? Why do you have to be born, without a happy family? Arielle is strong, she can look after you, and when you are old enough to understand, don't blame your mother for running into the arms of another man. She needed what I was unable to provide for. When we were together, each day seemed like a blessing, a miracle for my life. I never asked how long she would stay, and her parents could never accept us being together. Me, her professor, and she, just a wisp of a girl that enchanted my heart. I was just grateful for the time she chose to be with me. Secretly, I was hoping that there would be a place in her heart for me, as well. I never knew what I meant to her, for she never told me. I guess her life had troubles of her own, something she never could tell me. Myself, I told her everything about my life. My passions, my life story. She would never write to me, not even when things happened. She could not write well, she laughed. Sometimes she sent telegrams. I've always longed for more than this with your mother, but perhaps that would be my lifelong sorrow. After all, if she had been around always, I might have had lost the feelings for her long ago, and treated her almost as an objet d art in the house.

Some chapters in life write themselves our in a most unexpected way. I never expected Arielle to stay, nor did I expect her to leave, so soon. I do hope that she is at peace. Christian, all these while, I never really believed in it. In our love. It was as though everyday, I was holding my breath, waiting for the magical spell to break.

Those were the best years of my life.
Always be true to yourself, although circumstances dictate that I cannot be around for you, I want you to know that I care about you deeply. I am dying, Christian, but I am at peace. Knowing you are safe, and knowing Arielle has been a joy that I will always cherish in my heart.

Yours truthfully
Your father
Prof. Johannes Otto Christian Mittelberg,
University of Malmo, Fall of 1923.