Love, Sean and Matt(Abby Callan) knsryO hoshoWrhpaeh shioshri

Darn, so this is how it feels like to be typing on a chunky old-fashioned typewriter. Do you always type out all your poems like that?

Ehryi2yndkzhnhrj

Heck, I think my fingers are going numb already.

You’re good, Thea. I’ll give you that.


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I thought I locked up your writing studio alright, but just this morning, I found Matthew in here, curled up in one corner beside your shelf. I’ve never seen him sob like that before.

After an hour of weeping and pouting, he finally came around and decided to have his cereal breakfast.

I didn’t take him to school today. He said he wanted to do his drawing in your writing studio, but I made him do it on the kitchen island instead. I wasn’t ready to face it all.

I’m a selfish father.


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Matthew threw a tantrum fit this morning. He wanted to know when you’re coming back. He was yelling and kicking around while I just stood there. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to lie either.

And now he’s in your writing studio, sprawled on the mat doing his drawing. Earlier on, he complained about the ding ding sound your typewriter’s making while I type.

I don’t understand you at all, Thea. We’ve got TWO laptops in the house, still, you’d always use this sluggish… tool instead.


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We got a surgical emergency today. Everything was a mess. The scalpel was right in my hand, but I couldn’t get myself to do the cut. The nurses began to grow panicky and unnerved while I tried to compose myself. But I just couldn’t.

All I saw was you lying on the bed instead of the patient.

Then a nurse rushed to get the Chief to perform the operation. Luckily the surgery was successful, but the Chief wasn’t exactly happy with me, and neither am I.


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I was boxing up some of your books when I came across your bucket list paper. Bucket list? Really? How come I never knew you’re into that?
I mean, who does that anymore? Noob.

I’d pinned it up on our fridge, by the way. Matthew suggested that the both of us would help you complete it.

P/S Learn drums? Is this a joke? It better be worth my money and time, Thea Holguin.


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You’re always clumsy. You’re stubborn as shit. You’re bossy. Fussy as hell. Impulsive as whatever. Patronizing. Quarrelsome. Arrogant. Gullible. Overemotional. Possessive. Sometimes aloof. Dogmatic. Blunt. Unfathomable. Frugal. Careless.

You take the worst photographs. You’re incredibly hopeless with mechanics. You’re way too disobedient for a girl. You sing the worst tunes. You dance like a penguin. And you’re introverted as heck.

I miss you, damn it.


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I think I need to get your typewriter a new ink ribbon. Couldn’t find it in the shops in town. Don’t tell me you bought the previous ones from Amazon?


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Matthew bragged about your chocolate chips cookies to our neighbours' kids yesterday evening.

“They’re the best of the best, I tell you!” I could hear him from the kitchen.

And now I have to whip up your characteristic cookies for their play date. I don’t even know where to search for that recipe of yours.


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It’s eleven. Matt’s asleep on your study. He’s been drawing a lot lately. I haven’t got the chance to see his drawings, though. He wouldn’t let me.

And now he’s up again thanks to the noise your typewriter’s making.

How old is this stuff anyway? I don’t know why but it suddenly looks overly archaic to me.

You’re such a fuddy-duddy, Thea Holguin.


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I turned in my resignation letter today. It’s nothing living my dream job without you here.


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“Time will heal everything, Sean.”

That was what my therapist told me today.

To bloody hell with that. He doesn’t understand a thing about this.


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I read one of your stories today. You mentioned to get over something is to come face to face with that something and learn to accept it.

So I pulled out our photo albums and made myself go through every memory behind every picture. I told myself that you’re never coming back and I accepted it head-on. According to your witty theory, I should’ve gotten out of the grief pool.

I came face to face with the truth, Thea, and I accepted it.

It still hurts like f**k.


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Matt saw the photo albums, and he wouldn’t let go. Clasping them to his tiny chest, he had run off to his room and locked himself in there since morning.
I noticed he’s quite a disobedient little beast. Guess he got that from you after all.


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hi hello bye teddy sun cloud blue dad mom matthew


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That was Matt. He was playing around with your typewriter while I was out stacking some boxes. We’d finished packing up your books and papers, by the way. We’re converting this writing studio into Matthew’s very own drawing studio.

Remember his secret drawings? They’re actually sketches. Of you.

And I swear if you got to see them, you’d be the proudest mother in the whole freaking world.

That’s all for now. My fingers are still not used to this … thing.


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I can’t believe I’m here in your studio typing you letters again. But I feel like this is the only way my words could get to you, you know.

Ah, your boy’s back. Gotta go.


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[7 years after]

Kzjsrhoh sORhoi ioshrpisg

Chyeah Whoo Babe Meh Bleh Boo

Holy egg yolks, Mom, I can’t believe you actually used to type on this monster.

Kszhnr;oih ro oirh

And, Mom, don’t kill me but I got myself a girlfriend. And she’s better at photography than youuuuuuu


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Thea Holguin, I swear, when I run into you in the other world again, you’re gonna get it from me. Your bucket list, good gracious, it’s impossible!

Happy 45, by the way.

Husband Sean.

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Mom, I’m piling these letters into a book but don’t worry, we’re not selling it. I’m saving it for my future kid’s bedtime stories.

and. did. I. men. tion. I. got. my. self. a. girl. friend.?


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Story can also be found here: https://typotic.com/i/love-sean-and-matt/

Thanks for reading. :)

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