Brighter Than The Stars: Book One

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎-𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓇: 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹

It's happened so many times before, and it'll happen again. The odds of us finding ourselves in the same city are slim, even if I'm back in the same state I fled from. And the odds of us running into each other in that same city are miniscule.

Still, the woman appeared happy and vibrant, and her laugh reminded me of yours. Not the same laugh, but just felt similar. My hope is that's the person you've become. I hope you're happy and vibrant, and let out laughs that make people's days just a little better. I hope you have a little skip in your step as she had, not allowing the world to weigh you down.

-E

Maddie,

Well, I've just moved. I'm hoping this place will stick, because it's the first time anywhere besides your parents' house has felt like home to me. My apartment is nothing special, but the city is. It has this sort of energy, and I can feel this sort of light reflecting off of it.

It's only two and a half hours away from where we both grew up, so you may very well have been here before. Maybe that's why I feel the energy. It has a familiar feeling to it, and did when I visited it last year.

I'm happy, M&M. At least, I'm as close to happy as I think I'm capable of. I have a job working with people I like, an apartment I hope to someday make a home, a halfway decent car (your dad's shit out a few months ago), and just feel like I've found my place.

I wish I could say the anger's completely gone away, but it hasn't. It's still there, but I've learned to control it, mostly. I'm trying my best to become a better man. A better person. I know I'll never get there completely. Some of me will always be too fucked up to mend, and I've grown to accept it.

I may be better than my father, but I'll never be in a place where I'm capable of being a father. It's too easy for me to walk away from people, and keep them an arm's length away. Not to mention all the other shit that's wrong with me. A child deserves someone more than I can be, not that I've let anyone close enough for that to even be a possibility in my life.

I'll never have my mother's strong heart or unwavering spirit that even he couldn't break, but I'm doing my best to be someone she could be happy to call her son.

More than either of those two things, I like to think I'm a man who you wouldn't be ashamed of. Wouldn't be afraid of. It took me a long time to get there. Too fucking long. But therapy helped a bit. It can't fix me completely, but it's helped mend the parts that weren't too far gone.

Anyhow, I just wanted you to know I'm doing okay. Not great, but I think I've finally found a decent place in life.

Always yours,

E

M&M,

I took a drive today, on my way to a new city to start a new life, and it brought me close to our old town. I was only there about six months ago, but it still feels like a lifetime. Any time I'm anywhere near this place, which doesn't happen often, I'm tempted to drive through. See if I can stop and see you and your family without him ever noticing.

There's two issues with that.

The first is that I told you I made a promise to myself that I would never be in your life part way.

The second, you aren't there anymore. At least, I hope not. My dreams for you were always so much bigger than the ones I had for myself. I knew early on that I'd never go to college and lead a pretty insignificant life. But you? It was obvious from the beginning you'd do something important. Maybe not a job that earned you lots of money, because I can't see that as being a goal of yours, but something important. I knew you'd go to college and change people's lives. You wouldn't do it for credit, but because you have such a big heart.

Those are the dreams I have for you, Maddie.

-E

Maddie,

I saw you graduate yesterday. Sort of. I heard them call your name through a loudspeaker, and watched a young woman walk onto the stage, take her diploma, then walk off. It killed me I couldn't let myself get close enough to really look at you.

I saw your parents. I thought they'd look older, aged, but they still looked exactly the same. It allowed me to lie to myself, pretending I'd barely missed anything. But I missed so much.

I missed your first day of high school, your first dance, your first crush, your first heartbreak, your first time behind the wheel. So much of your life, and I hate myself for that. I know it's for the best. You're better off without me. You can grow without me, and experience a beautiful life without me feeling like I'm holding you back. There's going to be so much beauty in your life, and there's too much ugly inside of me that would only fuck it all up.

-E

Maddie,

Well, I just got back from a third date. It didn't go terribly, but halfway through, she asked me if I ever wanted kids. I told her absolutely not, and things got uncomfortable. I don't think there's going to be a fourth date, since I've learned that's a deal breaker.

It doesn't really matter, because I'm considering moving. I'm sick of living in such a big city. It's crowded and loud, and I've just grown out of this place.

Based on where I was before, I'm not cut out for small town life anymore either. Everyone's paying attention to everyone else. It feels like eyes are always on me. Judging me. If you're private, you're a freak. If you try to be sociable (which is exhausting just thinking about it), nothing stays private.

I just visited this city about six months ago and fell in love with the place. It isn't small, but it has that sort of feel to it, you know? The place is busy, but not crowded. It's lively, but not loud. Anyhow, that'll probably be where I end up next.

-E

He treated his letter more as a 'Dear Maddie', rather than 'Dear Diary'. They were much shorter than the ones received in person, feeling more like he just had to let something out quick. But in the seven letters she read, Madeline noticed he brought up children and his refusal to have them twice. There was also a short theme of wanting to be in her life, but not feeling well enough to be a part of hers.

"Have you learned anything yet?" Her dad asked from the kitchen archway.

Madeline didn't even look up, instead keeping her focus on the box of letters. She had a couple hundred to go, at least.

"Last week he told me he'd push me away, and that I should stand my ground," Madeline told her father. "I don't think this is one of those times. Even if we went back to being friends, Elijah doesn't feel good enough to be a part of my life, and I know he'll push me away repeatedly because he thinks he's doing what's best for me. I don't deserve that."

"No," her dad agreed, "you don't. And I'm proud of you for recognizing that. We all love Elijah, honey. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. He's my son in every way that counts. But you are my daughter, first and foremost, and if you think being in his life will cause you more pain than not having him in your life, you have to do what's best for you."