One Story Apart.

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There’s an old local legend regarding apt. 26C (The bottom window with the light). Over fifty years ago, there was a man who lived in this room. Every afternoon he wrote a love letter and sat it on his windowsill for the winds to carry it away. He believed in chance and was a romantic at heart. Throughout his entire life, he never lived beyond his means. A box spring mattress, tea cup candles, a worn out record player, and a typewriter passed down to him from generations passed.

Every night he waited and every day he started over. You see, he believed that fate was merely out of his hands and conceded in the hope that his best chance at finding true love was measured greatly by destiny and another’s curiosity. For years he believed that the chemistry between the two would somehow, someday be powerful enough to gently land at the feet of another. She would open his letter and also understand that this was meant for her.

Over these fifty odd years, he wrote over 18,000 pages. All different, and yet all with the same purpose. As the days grew into weeks, weeks into months, and finally months into years, he received a knock on his door forty-nine years after his first letter took flight.

As he opened the door, footsteps quickly exited the hallway but he found thousands of his letters bound together with a note on top. It simply read: “You have changed my life. For the first time ever, I believe in love. Not physical and without judgement. You made me dream and understand that humanity and compassion truly do exist. Although this may be hard to believe, this is as real as anything I’ve ever touched or held in my entire life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 26B.

What makes this story unique is that everyday for almost fifty years, he had passed the lady in 26B. They never once spoke. The book in which was read and written was never opened or typed until fate presented the pages in a new light. Rumor has it they went on to marry and live happily ever after and to this day, the typewriter and a letter still grace the room in apt 26C with what was apparently the last letter he wrote before he heard that one infamous knock that day. It read: This is my last letter, if fate isn’t capable of reaching my love, I am going to finally ask the beautiful lady in 26B. The one woman who I had admired from a far. Chance had it’s opportunity and now is the time for love..