For the rest of the week Jim passed his time by looking through Mr. Castellani’s photo albums. Most of the photos had been taken by Mr. Castellani’s mother, but the last two albums were photos that Mr. Castellani had obviously taken himself. Jim wondered if he would ever feel like taking pictures of things like this. He had never really felt like his life was worth documenting. After all, nothing extraordinary had ever happened to him before.

After night had fallen on the city, Jim stood in front of the desk. He took a deep breath and opened the third drawer. Inside was an envelope with his name written on it in that now all too familiar handwriting.

He took the envelope from the drawer and opened it.

March 30, 1924

Dearest Jim,

Is that you? Am I finally laying my eyes on my mystery man from the future? I haven’t been able to stop looking at the photo. I’ve hidden it in my pillow case and I’ve looked at it every night this week before I’ve gone to sleep. I can barely believe it. You said you were worried about saying perfect words to me, but that photo said everything I wanted to hear. Your smile is wonderful. I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, Jim.

I feel so funny saying these things to someone I’ve never met, but… I’m goofy over you Jim. I don’t know why I’m admitting that. I mean, I could certainly lie to you and say I think we’d make great friends, but truthfully I think we’d make a great pair together, in another way. It just hurts to know that. Because I do know it - I really believe it to be true and that may be crazy, but I like believing it’s true. Our experiences may be different but I don’t think that matters. There’s something different about each of us, something that only the other would understand. I don’t mean to be so… honest, I suppose, but I feel like I need to be. You’re the first person who I’ve told all my secrets to and I’ve never kept anything from you. I like how that makes me feel. I’m much more used to people not caring how I feel. I could get used to having someone who genuinely wants to know what I’m thinking or how my day was… but I suppose I shouldn’t get used to that. We don’t have forever with each other and I don’t know how I could find you. I suppose this will just have to be one of those things I carry around, another little secret for myself.

I’ve been painting more. I try to do something every night. I feel more inspired than I ever have. I promise I won’t give up on things that mean something to me. I’ll take more chances in my life. It’s going to be scary, but I’ll do it. I think as long as I have your picture, I can take chances. I think it’s something in your eyes. I wouldn’t mind it if you lived in 1924 either. Actually, I think I’d like that a lot.

I think I’m going to make some changes in my life. I’ve been thinking about what you said about just sitting around. Life won’t change that way. The change has to come from me. I think I’ve just always been afraid to be different and take the chance. But not anymore. I’ve made a promise to you, so I have to keep it. I don’t want you to think I’m all wet. You can trust me. I have a feeling I can trust you too.

I think what we’ve got here is the Real McCoy.

with Love,
Pam

Jim smiled and read the letter again. He wasn’t used to this sort of honesty. It was incredibly refreshing, but heartbreakingly bittersweet. He could imagine tiptoeing through weeks or months of flirtation with her before they got comfortable enough to tell each other their secrets, but he knew they didn’t have that kind of time. That was why Pam was rushing to make her feelings known - it was always in the back of her head that they only had two more chances. They had to make things as perfect as they could be. He wasn’t used to putting himself out there like this, but he couldn’t afford to walk on eggshells. For the first time in his life, he felt time was of the essence.

He took a deep breath and began writing.

Dear Pam,

I’m glad perfect words don’t mean everything to you, because I can barely think of anything to write. I wish I had forever to say these things to you. Hopefully I pick the right words. I know you don’t care how it sounds as long as it’s honest… but, honestly, I want it to be perfect for you. Hopefully that picture will be able to talk to you for as long as you need it to. Maybe you can find the courage you need there. I think you’re ready to take your chances. I’m going to start taking mine. After I mail this letter, I’m going to enroll in some writing classes. Maybe they’ll make me a better letter writer. I guess I can hope for that, right? I just wish we had more time for you to be impressed by something like that. I don’t think I’ll find someone else quite like you. It feels strange to say because obviously I can’t prove it, but… I feel it.

It’s probably selfish to want more from this amazing experience, but how can I help it? I never believed in… well, much of anything. I still can’t believe this is real, and I think what makes it more unbelievable is the fact that I truly can’t prove any of it happened. I hope I don’t wake up to find this is a dream. I would hate for the best thing to ever happen to me to be a dream. It seems like it should be, but maybe everybody deserves at least one miracle?

I wish I had forever to get to know you. I want to know everything about you. I want to help you change your life. But how can I? I guess I can only hope that I can manage to change your life in the way that I’m sure you’ll change mine.

I don’t mind being your secret. I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.

And I hope that, maybe, one day, we can find another little miracle. Maybe we’ll find each other again someday. I’d like to believe something like that can happen. I guess until that happens, I’ll just say that I want you to be happy, no matter what.

Love,
Jim

He folded up the letter and slipped it into one of the few remaining envelopes. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. It was nearly 3am, but he didn’t feel like sleep. He couldn’t put Pam from his mind.

He looked at the two remaining desk drawers and frowned.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the desktop. “It isn’t fair.”