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A Cold War Love Story

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  • A Cold War Love Story

    A true love story:
    "November 1974

    This is a letter to you, my Tony. I miss you so much.

    My Tony, I am writing to you in our book. The book you gave
    me. I did write our story in your book. I am sorry it is in
    Czech but that is my easy tongue. I am going far away now for
    a very long time. You could not come back. You did find some-
    one and I am so happy. You need to be loved well, my Tony.

    Charlie told me of your message and I am happy my Tony. I am
    glad that you are starting a new life. Yes, my Tony, I am
    happy for you because you gave me my life and you gave me my
    strength and you made me do my work. You let me do my work and
    I know it broke your heart to do it. It broke my heart too, my
    Tony.

    I am writing to you now because I will send this book, our
    book, to Sarah. I told you about her. She will try very hard
    to send you our book if I am dead. If I die, my Tony, I hope
    your book will come to you because I will love you until I die
    and then I want you to be sure of our love. I think our story
    is over but I want you to be very sure that it was good and you
    were my real love and you were the person who made my life what
    I wanted it to be. I want you to always know it my Tony. You
    were loved so well. I am sorry we could not be always
    together. I hope we were right to choose this, Tony. I hope
    it was right for you. I let you go because I love you. I know
    you thought the same. But it was hard for us, my Tony. It was
    so hard.

    I have your medal Tony. It will be in a safe place. I cannot
    take it with me but I do not want to send it with our book. I
    will keep it to come back to if I can ever return here.

    I wish I had written all our story in our book my Tony. I am
    sorry I could not come back here and write it all those years.
    But Tony they were so good. I can always remember everything
    of our times. All our times. I can remember it all and it
    will always be very strong in my mind.

    When I die my Tony you will be in my thoughts. I am frightened
    of my new job my Tony. I wish you were holding me. I will go
    because you have made me strong. I will go because you are in
    my heart. I hope I will do well for us. To make our decision
    be the right one, my Tony. I am so alone tonight but if you
    ever read this then please do not be sad. Please know that you
    made my life possible, that you gave me your strength and that
    whatever I do you are there with me holding me close and safe.

    Whatever happens my Tony, my real love, you are there holding
    me. I know that and I know your thoughts are with me tonight.
    I need you tonight and you are here. I must say goodbye my
    Tony. If you read this then think of me well. I will try
    very hard to talk to you again one day but it will be not
    possible for a long time.

    And now goodbye my real love. Thank you for knowing me and
    loving me. Thank you for my life. I hope I will do good
    things for you. I hope that if you read this you will be told
    good things of me.

    Thank you my Tony. Please do not grieve. Please be happy
    remembering our times. Please have a very good and happy life.
    Make our story be only happy, my Tony.

    How can I ever thank you. As you read this smile for me and
    drink some vodka for me and I will be crying for you. I will
    be somewhere crying for you. Please be happy my real love.
    You who gave me life.
    Your own Freya."

    ..................


    I closed the book and held it tenderly, as I gazed into
    the fire. I remembered the pathway beneath the trees, the wide
    avenue of Hungarian oaks providing living walls and roof for a
    pathway stretching many kilometres from the nearby village,
    around the mountainside and ending at a picnic area in the
    forest. The scene of death and of resurrection, the place
    where Freya lost all hope, and where she found it again.
    It must have been at about the time that she was writing
    the letter to me in her diary, late in 1974, that I was
    informed of Freya's death. The message said that she had been
    arrested and had killed herself and several secret police in a
    car bomb. I was shocked, but hardly surprised. Freya was
    certainly totally committed to her quest for freedom and human
    rights. Yes, it was possible that she would do this thing.
    The agency was clever, I believed their story and did not try
    to contact Freya again.
    For the next seventeen years my life was busy with love
    and business affairs, but I was unsettled, for I continued to
    grieve for that wild girl. We chose to part, to go our
    separate ways but somehow death was too final, it left one with
    no options, no hope.
    In the back of the book I had placed four more letters, I took
    them out and unfolded them, slowly.

    ------------------------------------------------

  • #2
    You are a common thief Jatt

    A cold war love story was written by and is copyright to me. Kindly remove it and write your own stuff in future.. David Blake
    Last edited by warlock46; 05-12-2007, 06:49 AM.

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    • #3
      I am chandoo ( feeling alone ), in search of a good friend to share my views and to take suggestions. Introduce yourself only if u want to share with me.

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      • #4
        good story teller

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        • #5
          I met a indian male, He is a returned student in China. Every time, I am depressed, he has the magic make me peaceful. I'd like to stay with him.
          But my mom object. I am the only child of my mom, and was brought up by her only. I'd like to obey her. what should I do.

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