Letters

The Endings (tw: su*cide)

I couldn't figure out why I'd ever thought things would be better. Years I'd waiting thinking I'd either forget about him, or he'd come bac. In the end he came back, but it wasn't the same. The boy I loved had left me a long time ago and I didn't have anyone or anything else. 

I stood there on the edge of the balcony wondering if I was stupid to be doing this over a boy. Like some wannabee jilted lover. But this was about more than just a boy.

I was 5 years old when I decided love and miracles were real. I'd seen how my parents were in love. I'd been 13 when I gave up on friendship and love. Knowing anyone who'd ever come into my life either used me or left me. 15 when I met him and let him change my mind. Love existed, and I deserved to be loved. But it was at 17 that I lost all that again. Saw my parents begin to hate each other. Saw him leave, all others leave. Saw that I was used and left.

I left town thinking I could leave everything behind as well.  But I hadn't. I could no longer convince myself night after night that I was alright. I'd slowly lost my mind, alongside my hope for years. Today it would end.

The air up here was crisp. The moon was full, and the stars shone like beacons. The night had lit up for the last time I'd ever see it. I was going to jump; I knew this much. I felt a tear slip down. Living had been good for a while. I'd found happiness, if only for small moments. I knew I had no Pyramus, but I was Thisbe dying for love. Praying to the gods and giving life away.

The last thought in my head was the first time I'd seen him, except here, I hold him tight and tell him I love him. Here, inside the thought, things work out and I never say goodbye to him. Here in this last thought, he's happy and it's me who made him happy. It's enough. It's enough.

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My hands were shaking as I gripped my class of Coke. Yes, I was aware this was the first time I'd see him in person. I shouldn't have been too bothered but I was. As kind and sweet one perceived me, I had one secret. I barely cared about half the people I claimed to love. I'd learned to be kind out of my own suffering, yet I'd also learned to not care. But by some miracle, this one time...I cared. 

I brushed my fingers through my hair for the millionth time. I wanted to look good. I wanted to look perfect.

"He's here!", Hannah got up and made her way out the booth and the restaurant. I stayed, too scared to move. My hands were sweaty and cold, my grip on the glass tightened. 

Breathe, I told myself its just a boy, and he's here for Hannah's birthday. He doesn't care what you look like. I was wondering if I should have worn a dress instead of the suit. Maybe I looked to formal, too cold. Nevertheless, 5 minutes later, I got up and followed. 

I was standing by the doors, when he looked up and gave me a shy wave. He looked sweet, and I felt a tingle in my chest. There was no way I was gonna do this again. I was not going to fall. I knew what I wanted from life. I'd find someone who made me feel nice. Not butterflies not love. Nice. Because nice would never be able to hurt me. Because nice was settling for something that had no power over you. Passion was what was gonna get me to burn all eternity, and I couldn't afford more scars. Nice would be simple and sweet and...nice. 

I made my way over to the group and he smiled at me. He looked like nothing could ever go wrong as long as I was there. 

Shit.

"Hey...", my voice was a low whisper. Was I stuttering?

"Hey"

HIs voice was low and rich, like honey, slowly spreading over my senses. Oh Penn was not nice. Penn was where I knew I'd sin. Penn meant not being able to breathe when he came close. Penn went stuttering and stumbling over words because I had no idea who I was with him. Penn meant fire and storms and shouting and screaming and wanting. Penn meant wanting and it was going to take me down.

He was way taller than me, almost 6 feet. I looked up at him and he looked down at me and I was already in trouble, and I knew it. He was smiling...softly. Maybe he knew what was inside my head. God. Without actually thinking at all, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. After 30 seconds or so, he kissed me back.

When we broke apart, I noticed we were both sweaty from the noon sun, and he'd been wearing all black. A smile crept up his lips, and my face seemed to want to mirror it. So, there we were, standing together, grinning like idiots, knowing we were in hot water, but loving every moment of it.

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I smiled. It was over. The guilt, pain, shame, hurt. All of it. I dropped the last letter I was going to write on to the floor and I jumped. I could see the mood right till the crash. And then I saw nothing.

It was finally over.