At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
the book thief- markus zusak

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Letter Number Twenty-one: Christmas Trees & Broken Wings


{Photocredit: ...?}
12/15/10

"Us elves like to stick to the four main food groups. Candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup."
♥elf

My most beautiful Avvian,

Have you ever just wanted to look up into a Christmas tree? (: It's so beautiful, the lights, the colors, the shapes, it's what makes Christmas really real to me. It's like, since I can see the tree, since I can feel the colors on my face, since I can touch the ornaments, then Christmas is really coming. :)

We have this crazy thing around my house where like... the WHOLE house gets decorated for Christmas. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. We have like eight tubs of decorations, excluding the trees. And to tell you the truth.. I kind of hope that you are not that crazy about Christmas, I mean like maybe, one day, like after we have kids, but not before. :) I don't mind decorating a little, a few decorations, a massive tree, but that's all. And you are SO helping take them down.

You know what I hate with a passion though? I hate not knowing what I got. I hate not being able to have x-ray vision and see through the box, I hate having to wait. You know better than anyone (other than Courtney) how hard it is for me to wait for things. And often I find myself trying to figure out what the gift is before I open it. I think that for me, Christmas is as much about the investigation as the actual gift.

I'll bet you didn't know that there is in fact two letters in front of this that I have temporarily lost for the time being. I will post them as I find them (: They were short letters, nothing of consequence, but letters all the same. Which leads me primarily to the second point of this letter. The part about broken wings.

Broken wings can mean two whole things. One, a childhood, one broken childhood. And two, a butterfly. This is mostly about a butterfly. A story of a butterfly.

This butterfly has been a little battered, it has been a little bruised, not physical bruises of course. Not a butterfly who has been beaten in any physical way. But inside she's broken. She's known all kinds of pain. The brief kind, the one that comes and goes, the one that stays a while, burrowed. She knows the type the burns, the type the freezes, the type that sears through, the type that numbs. She's felt the last one for a long time.

A numb butterfly. She's listened to her parents fight for eighteen years, people have walked out, and they've lied, and they've broken. Together, they have burned everything she once held dear. They have squashed her desires, and stolen her dreams. But this butterfly has a hope, much like the one she found at the dollar tree that had only one wing, she is repairable, and she's hiding her wings until she needs them.

I'm waiting to use my wings for you.
Come, please give me the strength to fly.
I want you here now Av.
I love you.

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