Today I flipped the mattress on my bed and found a forgotten forget-me-not from yesteryear.
For the longest time it had been hidden, stowed away for safekeeping and eventually lost from memory.

My heart stopped when it caught my eye, like the first time I saw it, left on the dresser as a surprise upon waking.
Anticipation of the words written on this scrap of paper swelled through me. I did nothing for a few moments but stare as my mind returned to that time past.
The smells and tastes lingered. Words echoed and touches caressed once more.

I took the letter, one of love no doubt, and it felt vulnerable between my fingers, like dried tissue after soaking. I hardly dared open it in case it crumbled, finally lost forever before I could read it once more.

Gentle, like creeping, I opened the sheet and years old creases flexed again, resurrected. Daylight illuminated the words written and they read as though penned yesterday.

To be told again, after all these years, how precious I am, how loved and desired, made me brim and to be sure I blushed. I remembered his hand and imagined how it looked as he wrote. I imagined the look on his face as he declared his love in writing.
I would have clutched the paper to my chest if I could have taken my eyes from it.

The smile on my face grew on third and fourth readings because I thought of the hug I gave him when next I saw him, the kiss I placed on the tip of his nose. The light in his eyes filled me and the world felt right.

Of course things changed. Our love, like his letter, was forgotten and eventually faded. These words were written a lifetime ago and the feelings behind them have so long ago faded.
Still.
It was nice to remember.