Too Far Apart • FIVE FEET APART

• Letter 2

Dear Will,

Do you remember what it felt like to kiss me? Because I don't. I don't remember that kiss. If you were here, you might toss out a dumb joke about CPR, perhaps turn it into an innuendo... but Will.

We kissed.

And I wasn't there for it.

And now, I never can be.

I keep asking myself this, Will, but why is the world so unfair? Why is this life conniving and cruel and wicked? To bring us together, only so we can be kept apart. It's ridiculous. I don't want that. I don't like that.

Everyone I have ever loved has been taken from me.

Will, I wish you were here.

I wish you would talk to me. Just once, you know? I mean, I remember you every day. I'm always looking through your book. Your art book. That's my favourite book in the whole world, you know that? Definitely beats Shakespeare.

Mentioning Shakespeare is kind of difficult for me now. All of his stories were love stories.

They were all tragedies, Will.

They all died.

With love,
Stella.

PS. It's not living if you're not loving. It not loving if that person's not living... I don't know how else to put it, Will. All I know is we are a Shakespearean tragedy. We've been doomed.