Barred Time

May 11

Bellamy,

I’m not even sure what to say. I thought this letter was a good idea. At least until I started writing. Now I’m not so sure. Everything’s been a mess. I’m a mess. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe clarity. Closure? Forgiveness? I don’t even know anymore. I just know I’m out here while you’re in there in there and all I can think about is how it’s all my fault. There are so many things that could have gone differently. So many times I think about regretting getting in your truck. Not telling you to stop. Or even jumping out when I knew what you were gonna do.

I don’t blame you if you hate me. It’s a burden I’m willing to hold because I’m not even sure where I would be if you hadn’t stopped that night.

Hope

May 15

Dear Hope,

I don’t regret what I did. What I regret is you carry around memories you shouldn’t have. Don’t ever doubt your worth. I wouldn’t change anything I did. You deserve more than you were ever given. If there is one thing you can take away from what happened, it’s to live. Live for yourself and don’t let anyone else decide your choices.

You don’t need clarity or closure. That came the night I set you free, because we both know where you would’ve ended up.

Being a mess is normal in your situation, but it doesn’t define who you are. You’re lost and all you need to do is find you.

You are beautiful, Hope. A beautiful, bright, and smart woman that was dealt a horrible hand. Now all you have to do is grab life by the reigns and take control.

It’s yours.

Bellamy

May 22

Bellamy,

I’m not even sure how to start this letter. I guess I wasn’t exactly expecting a response. How could I not when I ruined your life? Go through each day like I didn’t just take away your life? For a woman you didn’t know, plucked off the side of the road and did more than any man ever has that I knew for years. Some days it feels to real not to have to worry. Then others it feels like a weight I can’t even carry.

I’m sorry. I have no right to complain Maybe this was a bad idea…writing back. I can’t fathom what it’s like for you in there. What you have to go through every day for a choice you should have never had to make. I’m truly sorry, Bellamy.

Hope

May 28

Hope,

I’m gonna stop you there, Hope. Don’t do that. Not to yourself. Not over me. I said I would do it again, and I meant that. My actions aren’t your own, so don’t live with that burden. It’ll wear you down more than ever when you should be building yourself back up.

Breathe, Hope.

Allow the spring rain to come and grow into the strong, beautiful woman I know is underneath all the pain and hurt. Start with taking a walk. Grabbing a coffee, cocoa, or even tea, whatever you like. You don’t need to talk to anyone. No one has the right for that. Not even me. Just know that I will cherish every letter you send and keep them close. Your first is already crinkled from reading it so often. Not much to do here except think of you. And for that worry your pretty little mind is thinking of, it’s not as bad as everything makes it out to be. Yes, there may be fights and other things going on I’d rather not tell you about, but it stays far away from me.

Bellamy

P.S. Next letter, tell me about one of your days.

June 3

Bellamy,

Not sure telling me to not think of being the reason you’re locked up will stop them from surfacing. There isn’t exactly a switch for this. Especially when I am the reason. If you hadn’t stopped that night. If I hadn’t gotten in your truck, you wouldn’t be where you are. You could have just kept driving, going to wherever you were headed, and living your life like you should have.

I’ll tell you about my day, or yesterday. Today wasn’t good. I owe you more than some letter about my day. I did grab a coffee (with sugar and cream). I’m not a heathen who likes it black. Sorry, that was rude. I took a stroll. (God, who says that word?) There’ a small park beside the cafe in town. The sun was warm. It wasn’t refreshing or whatever like they described in the movies or that though. It just made me think of how days are clouded, hiding away the warmth and light you’d find in the smiles of everyone you pass by. The carefree laughs of the kids that go down the slides in the playground, or their parents watching with that proud, blissful expression.

Anyway…what about you? You couldn’t possibly be reading my letter that much. All I can picture is having to constantly watch for someone who would want to come after me or just saying one word wrong.

I hope you are doing okay.

Hope

P.S. There’s this small patch in Scottsdale where flowers bloom in May near a creek that actually feels like one of those fairytales you’d picture as a kid. You reminded me of it when you told me to allow the rain to come.

June 10

Dearest Hope,

Is it safe to assume that you think about me often then? I wonder what you would think if I did wind up hurt. I’m kidding. I would never allow your worries to become reality. That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about.

I’m glad you took that step. No one ever said the first one would feel like cloud nine. Don’t let that misguided information set you back from going further. It’ll come in time. And yes, I’m one of those heathens who like their coffee black, but I would never condemn you for how you like your coffee. I’m sure it’s just as sweet and bright as you. So, don’t ever change that. You are enough.

Don’t underestimate how many times I read your letters. If I could show you a picture, you’d see just how crinkled and worn they are already. Something tells me these try to stay pristine and unblemished. I don’t care if they get ruined. I’ll even write two if that’s what you want. As for my days, my sweetest Hope, they are filled with constant chatter that I’d rather not repeat and working out. Let’s not forget the food. Something to die for…seriously. I’m sure your cooking would be better and I haven’t even had it.

Bellamy

P.S. Tell me more about this patch. It sounds beautiful and I have no doubt you’d be the center of it all.

June 15

Bellamy,

If by often, you mean how you saved me and I ruined you return. Then yes, you can say I think about it daily. Please don’t joke about things like that. I’m not sure how you’d expect me to go day to day knowing that I was the reason you have to go through all that. I didn’t really want to admit it, but it’s hard to be sure if you’d be honest if something did happen.

How would I know you’re not bruised, bleeding every night from someone? I can’t say with a whole heart that you’d be truthful. You wound up there for my sake. I want to believe that your okay, doing everything you can to make the best of the situation I caused you’re in.

You don’t even know how I cook. Or if I even do. I could be a terrible cook and burn everything. And please, don’t write two letters. One it enough. And you’re not wrong. I just have this…feeling? I’m not sure, just that I don’t want to ruin them even though I know they won’t last forever.

P.S. I think you would love it, for someone so tough and rigid. It’s far enough off the main stretch in town that you wouldn’t find it unless you knew it was there. A slice of peace if you will, where everything just seems to wash away with the creek and you can lift off with the breeze to anywhere you want.

June 21

Sweetest Hope,

Sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel worse. I was hoping it would lighten your mood. To know that you’re moving forward with life and smiling without the pain one day. I know you can do it.

All I can ask is that you trust me to tell you if something was wrong. And nothing has happened. I don’t plan on letting anything happen if it means making sure you have one less thing to worry about. I’ll tell you the truth about anything you ask or want to know.

Bellamy

P.S. It sounds amazing. I’m sure you’d make the it a masterpiece just being there. I wish I could see it.

June 25

Bellamy,

I’m sorry if I showed up out of the blue. Seeing you with my own eyes was the only way I could sleep at night, wondering how truthful your words truly were. I’m not used to having someone actually mean what they say. Though, I bet you knew that. I never even had to tell you anything that night. You just knew. I’m not sure how. I was used to hiding it and no one else seemed to pick up how easily I was broken. So numb on the inside. Maybe it’s the world we live in, ignoring the pain of others for the bliss of their own lives.

Hope

P.S. I’m not sure I’d make anything a masterpiece, but it’s nice to think that I do. I have too many scars to appear beautiful in anyone’s eyes. I’m sure you’re just being nice. So, thank you.

July 1

Sweet Hope,

You are beautiful. If I have to write that in every letter, I will. If I have to tell you whenever you visit, I will. And you can visit any time you please. It would never upset me. I would never turn you away either. The choice is yours. Your time is yours to do with as you please. I have no right what to tell you to do with it. Waste it. Cherish it. Use it anyway you please. Just keep taking that one step forward, no matter how hard it seems. And yes, some days may seem harder than others. Just know that I will always be at your side, not physically, but there. I will stand by you, wishing you to push forward at every turn.

As much as I wish to see you again, the choice is yours. As it should always be.

Bellamy

P.S. You are enough.

July 6

Bellamy,

I wish every visit got easier.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting. I feel so many things when I sit across from you. So many things I wish I could say in person, but here I am, writing it all down on paper in the safety of my apartment days later. I wish I could be more angry. Or that you’d be more angry at me.

You should be.

I don’t see that as fair. I feel like I can’t read you at all. What are you thinking? Are you scared? Or am I projecting my thoughts to how I would feel if I were in your shoes?

Hope

P.S. It’s not much, but I know you said you wanted to try my cooking. That’s if they even let it through. Do they allow food through?

July 11

My sweetest Hope,

Do you dislike visiting? I would never ask you to do something that doesn’t make you happy. Don’t do for some forgiveness you think you need. You don’t. I will never blame you for cutting of any ties you have with me.

I could never be angry with you. There isn’t a single thing that you could do that would ever make me angry. Your actions and choices are yours. I cannot and will not tell you what to do. You had that stripped for so long that no one ever gets the right to do that again. If they do, they aren’t meant for you.

As for what I’m thinking. I’m thinking you need to rid those thoughts from your mind. I am completely fine, Hope. You see that for yourself every time you come and I’ll keep showing you every time that being in here isn’t so bad. I can’t say it’s the greatest, but I’m not dying in here. I’m grateful that you worry for me, but please, Hope, please don’t let your thoughts revolve around that.

You are enough, Hope.

P.S. You have no idea how much sending those to me mean. And yes, they allowed it, though more squished and probably pocked with fingers, but to taste this over their food? Delicious. Thank you.

August 2

Hope,

I haven’t received your letter yet. Couldn’t say letters haven’t gotten stolen before by others, but something tells me that isn’t the case. If they had wanted to, they would have stolen them I’m the beginning.

Is everything okay? Even the darkest days have to give away to the light, Hope. Never let it win.

You are enough my sweetest Hope.

Waiting earnestly,

Bellamy

August 12

Hope,

Please respond. I can’t get the gaze in your eyes the last time you visited out of my head. You wouldn’t tell me what was wrong and it’s eating away at me. If you want to move forward without me, I can live with that. I can stay in the shadows where you leave every memory of that part of your life behind, but… fuck, Hope, I just need to know you’re okay. Something felt wrong that day and I…I need to know.

Bellamy

August 20

My sweetest Hope,

I love you. Fuck. I love you so, so much. You talked about closure when you first wrote me and now I’m doing the same. Except I don’t think I’ll ever get that. The night you hopped into my truck, I knew I’d do anything for you. I’d kill just to see that haunted gaze brighten even a little until it shined so bright that every shadow that tried to snuff it out would dissipate. I just never thought they would win. I was nobody that night, Hope. I hate that I never told you this before and that you’ll never be able to read this and know just how much meaning you gave to my life, even if I wasn’t really in yours. You were everything in mine.

The first time you visited? Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful in my life. The bags under your eyes didn’t deter a thing. The green specks in your eyes shined when you looked at me and the only thing I hated was not being able to wrap my arms around you. You dressed in that baggy t-shirt and sweats like you were running from your own shadow. You were the beacon of light, drawing me into the shore from the sea which I was lost in for so long. You were always enough. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. I could take being called a murderer, killer, heartless. Any of it because you knew the truth and still fell for me.

Maybe I’m the one who should regret everything. Maybe if I hadn’t responded to your letter, you’d be out there, finding a man that could promise you the world, shower you with love and sincerity that I couldn’t. I should have stopped you. I should have stopped the moment I read your letter, burying it beneath everything else and let you live your life. To go on thinking I hated you for what I did, but I couldn’t.

I love you, Hope. I love you so much I would rather end this life early to find you in the next and start anew.

Forever yours,

Bellamy

P.S. You're already forgiven, Hope. I can never be angry with you.

July 19

Bellamy,

I don’t hate visiting you, Bellamy. It’s quite the opposite. Seeing you brings everything back, yet I can’t seem to stay away. I know you said I could walk away at any time, and you wouldn’t blame me, but I don’t think I could do that. The though of walking away hurts even more than the memories. To know that I can walk out freely, while you get escorted back to a barred cage, time getting stripped from you. Time we could have together, somewhere far away.

I don’t know how to say this. I tried when I visited you twice this week. The guards must have thought I was nuts. Yet I still couldn’t get the words out.

You are so sweet. So kind, caring, and forgiving. I could go on about everything that you are, everything you’ve ever done. Probably not even just for me. What you did…I can’t say I hate that you did it. I hate that it took everything from you. You shouldn’t be in there.

I didn’t want this.

If I knew I was going to feel this, I would have asked you to keep driving. To take me wherever you were headed. Drive off into the sunset like some cheap, cringe romance movie. I would have done everything differently that night.

Hope

P.S. I’m falling in love with you. And I put you there, barring our time we should have had for years. I’m sorry, Bellamy.