Beyond the Letter

Dearest Grace,

By the time I write this, it is the last of my efforts to reach out my final message to the land of the living. This is the final letter I write, and oh, how it is an honor to be you. Time is a hell of a thing; who knew I would write to you after these few years? Remembering the short time spent together, both in hatred and love, brings back great memories. I suppose that all of this looks pretty confusing. I wouldn’t question it, but now I see that regardless of what happened and what I have done, it is now my end. I hope that you’re not sad. I truly deserved everything that I got, and now I am dead. I can assure you that I had more peace on that rope than I ever did in life.

Words cannot describe my discontent with my past, for I see now the person I was and who I have become has damaged nearly everything I had in this life. I think it is good; a great curse rode the world. The world can now rejoice in the fact that I am dead. I hope whatever they do to my body, they reduce it to ash and spread it to whatever waste field is open. I don’t necessarily care for what happens to my flesh afterward; all I know is that I am going to be burning either way. Justice has been served now, and there is nothing left of me to give, and now we see that. I live on as the paper to which I’m writing, reduced to nothing but particles in an infinite void as time goes on and the ink bleeds through and becomes only thought. 

When I think of you, no moment goes by where regret does not overwhelm me. I'm sure that sentence gave you the most extreme case of Deja vu, and I understand that this sentiment has been repeated since the beginning. I assure you that this is the last you will hear of my apologies. Looking into your eyes is hard; it always is. Staring into the eyes of a soul you miss stays with you always, regardless of time or reality. I am ashamed to admit that I have and always will love you. I am disheartened by living with the reason why we can never be together. Your soul is meant for another person, someone who can promise you forever. How can you promise your love forever when you cannot promise yourself next week? 

One of my favorite memories came near last year's end when we saw the shore's waters meet the sand. Seeing and talking to you was a treasure held greatest only behind the feeling of freedom. With all things considered, the easiest way that it could have ended was my heart rapturing into a thousand pieces as I drank the poison of my own mistakes. I told you that night about how wonderful our eyes looked when meeting or how your soul felt as fulfilling as the breeze of the air. Despite everything, I hope your life is filled with pleasures beyond belief, and I hope every dream comes true for you. For my soul will be the step stool on which you carry on.

Your silhouette is more valuable to my being than the air I breathe. When we first met, life was strange yet melodic. You knew my struggles physically and mentally, who would hold a warm presence during cold and painful nights. I know people like to remember their memories in hatred for all that went bad. I will never forget the good times. Who knew that watching horror movies and spilling popcorn on each other was a luxury only found once? Who knew that finding peace within us and ultimately watching it all crumble before us would end like this? Sorrow is my soul for what I have caused. 

For all the times I was annoying, for all the times I was petty, and for all the times I was the wrong person. I hope you know that I have been in therapy for the last few months, and I have been on medication for God knows how many different things. As much as it has helped with numbing the pain, I don’t think that things are going to change for me. I am still that careless idiot who never cared for anyone and held only hatred in their heart, that selfish kid who wanted nothing but to see himself rise above everyone but was too lazy to work for it. My body lives in debt to death, with my bones growing weaker and my mind growing less hopeful; I hope that is what everyone remembers. I cannot lie to any of you; I followed the tunnel and saw only the light of fire and brimstone. 

Although many people's dreams are foolish, I would take anything in this world to spend a day in the life we once dreamed of. I wish I could have been a better person and someone you could have loved forever. We could have achieved our dreams together and lived in a big house on the other side of reality. I wish I could have married you and lived happily ever after. Life is not like books; instead, tragedies and happiness happen simultaneously. I hope that it didn’t have to end this way, that neither of us had to experience pain. I wish that I would have been able to heal your scars away and cleanse you of the blood that pours from the heart of fear. 

The night before I came to your house one last time, I drew a picture for you, which I know now is completely and utterly disintegrated and deduced into particles like most of our memories. By then, I had become very anxious about seeing you like I am now. I drew a crudely drawn man who lived in imperfection. I didn’t know it, but ultimately, I became that man. I spent too much time trying to become perfect for this world and be better than others. Recognizing my failure now, I laugh at who I was and, more importantly, who I am.

As this chapter closes, a new one begins. Each day, you will grow stronger and wiser, more than I ever was. As you move, I will follow. As you grow, I will watch. My ultimate goal is to see a world devoid of my doing and seeing the prosperity of those I love. Wherever you are in life, I hope you know I am rooting for you, just not in sight. Although I may not be able to be seen, my presence shall be everlasting in the belief that you will strive to move forward. Regardless of who is reading this, whether you or the bottom of your trash can, I hope you understand my plea. I hope your life is filled with pleasures beyond understanding, for it is what you deserve. Your name is forever engraved in my mind and heart as someone loving and kind who gave their all. You will always be that shadow in the corner of my eye, the silent girl who draws and paints beautiful pictures into this world. Although my fight is lost, there is still hope for you, old friend. 

May our eyes never meet again.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

It has been 4 months since you took your life, yet it feels like yesterday since I heard the news. At first, I was hesitant to write back, but now, after reading your letter for the hundredth time, I realize what I must do. Your funeral was huge; people were packed in nearly every church seat, and some were standing. Seeing so many faces familiar to you was rejoicing that so many people were here in memory of you. It upset me that I was the only one getting a letter out of all those mourning for you. Having to watch as your brother passes me an envelope with your blood on it, seeing his eyes holding back every teardrop in hopes of looking presentable to all that were there. 

All I have to ask is why. How could you not realize all of those mourning for you? How could you not think about what you left behind when leaving? I guess I will never understand. Your battle is now over, and unfortunately, we have to be the ones to watch as your corpse lowers into the ground. Somewhere between the episodes of crying and wiping away makeup, I unfortunately overheard the chatter among the crowd. Although the details of your death were kept private for most, I was informed about the details from those I spoke to.

It was a Thursday in January, and a cold and bitter wind flew as you clocked out for the final time. You bid everyone farewell and gave them all hugs and affection as you walked out that door, ensuring everyone was aware of your departure. When you drove away into the distance, that was the last time anyone saw your smile. That was the last time anyone could receive your warm hugs and awkward yet kind handshake. That was the last time anyone could look into your eyes and say goodbye. 

When you got home, not all is known about what you did, but in those few hours you had to yourself, there could have been a moment when you sent a sign for help. You wrote to me one last time, even though you knew that if you were to dial my phone number, I would have been quick to pick up and help you. The same goes for all who attended your funeral; all of us would have been able to save you had you wanted that. You died as you were on the inside, messy and broken as your body hung there. Although you said you felt more peace on that rope than ever, the scratch marks on your neck tell otherwise.

In your last moments, it’s apparent that you were frantically kicking and screaming, hoping that in your previous breath, those around would hear. You made sure to secure the rope around your neck to where no one, not even you, could be released from the cold arms of death itself. In those last moments, the precious boy I met was now dead and left a hole more outstanding than you could ever believe. You may not think it, but I very much have been affected by what you did. Every second since you have passed, I have thought nothing but your final thought. To think that you died believing that no one cared for the ceasing of your existence is very disheartening, especially since seeing the crying faces of those you left behind.

Our time together made me realize that the seconds spent with you can never be returned. Although we did not get to spend those final days together, let alone the rest of our lives, I think the universe held a loving place for you. You were meant to become that light to others who could not illuminate yourself; your selflessness was immeasurable, and your life was cut too short. Why couldn’t you see that I was but another person in this infinite void? Why couldn't you know that I was but another chapter in your life? My memory should not have lasted a second, but to you, it was enough to end your life. 

Regardless of what anyone believes, you deserve to be a part of this world. If I could make a deal with death, I would gladly wager that of my own to be able to rebirth you into this world, to see the world opposite to how you saw it and cleanse you of your nightmare. Although my wish is in vain, I would defy all reality in making sure that it was inevitable, for the importance of your soul on this land is too important to be denied. The only one satisfied in your demise was yourself.

Each day, as I make my way to your resting place, it becomes clear that my heart's journey makes me just as soulless as you are now. Each step reminds me of all I could have done better, of the person I once was who became a lone soul. Each look at your gravestone reminds me of the mistakes that have overtaken me. There I stand, sometimes for hours at a time, waiting for the moment your body bursts through the ground and your lips move and speak in your tongue. The pain I feel is only numbed by the thought of your smile on the other side. 

May your soul read this well as it floats forward in every breeze of the wind.

Sincerely and forever, Grace