Dear Celia

XII

Christmas was just as uneventful as every other year. We sat around the Christmas tree, wallowing in sadness. As much as Auntie Marie tried to make Christmas fun and exciting, it had always been a day of grief for Noelle and I. The first Christmas after my mom’s death was spent in a foster home until Auntie Marie came and picked us up the next day.

Christmas was just a reminder of everything wrong with our lives.

Then, on December 26th, Celia called me.

I was lying in bed reading when my phone went off. I felt too numb and careless to even check the caller ID before I flipped it open and said, “Hello?”

“Lucas?”

I stiffened. “Celia?”

“Yeah.”

I sat up, stuttering, “What - I… hey.”

“Um,” she paused, “I just wanted to call you before I leave.”

“Leave?”

“For New York.”

“Right.” So this is it, I told myself.

“I, um, I guess I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the past few months,” she replied. Her tone was fragile, as if something would break at any moment. “They were the best months of my life.”

I laid back on my bed and closed my eyes, pressing my hand against them.

“Lucas?”

“I’m here.”

“You’ve really been a great friend,” she continued. “And I’m… I’m going to miss you.”

My hand shook.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and that before you my life sort of sucked a lot, Lucas. I would miss the hell out of you if ran away.”

Her voice felt like a faraway melody.

“I’m really sorry about… about everything. I just couldn’t stand seeing you hurt because of me.”

I pressed the back of my hand harder against my face.

“Lucas?”

She was a coward. A selfish, goddamned coward.

“Say something,” she breathed into my ear, and her voice sounded so small and so delicate.

“Bye Celia,” I whispered back.

She didn’t answer, and I didn’t hang up. I waited for her to say something.

She didn’t.

…

december 27th

dear celia,

I’d figured drowning seemed reasonable.

i wish things were different.

To use the very thing she loved and throw it back in her face.

Maybe then she’d know.

I wondered if I should have been feeling some sort of fear, some sort of disbelief and cowardice in the heat of the moment. But my hands stayed steady when I turned the tap on, and I could count each and every slow heartbeat as I slipped in. 

the first few months after i met you were the best months of my life. i had never been so happy. 

I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to succumb. There was no point in blocking it anymore.

I thought back to the night of my parent’s death, and I couldn’t stop thinking of the way Noelle had looked at me in the police station, the absolute face of shock and anger that I hadn’t done a single thing. I knew what she was thinking, I knew what she thought of me, and I knew of the sheer madness she felt towards me all those years. She blamed me - my own fucking sister - but I blamed myself too.

The water was skimming my arms.

but i really hate everything right now.

Bye Noelle.

and i wish i could say you make everything better

I wondered about Auntie Marie, and the way she spoke to me in the delicate voice of hers, like I was something so fragile that even the sound of her voice could shatter me. It hurt to think of how much she loved me. She didn’t deserve it.

Sweet, sweet Auntie Marie and quiet Uncle Jed with his oversized glasses and gentle voice.

What a burden I was to them.

They didn’t deserve me. They never did. They didn’t deserve any part of me or the past five years I’d burdened them with.

Oh God.

I loved them so much.

I felt the wetness tickling at my chin.

but you don’t

Bye Auntie Marie.

Bye Uncle Jed.

you made everything worse.

And then, dark hair and green eyes.

It was only rational that she would cross my mind in this very moment, because she had caused it.

Dear, beautiful Celia.

the term “feeling alive”: to feel peaceful and loved; to know that all things impure is what makes you pure; to be happy and content

 Being with her made everything inside me feel alight with both fire and water, hurt and love. Months ago, just the thought of her face made everything seem perfect and glowing. But now, thinking of her crooked glasses and feathery freckles just broke everything inside me. She ruined me, shattered me, took every single thing I was and turned it into nothing.

but if feeling alive means to feel happy, then why is my heart still beating?

The water blurred my vision now.

 i felt alive with you at some point, celia. when we sat watching the sunrise, and when you told me that i made you happy; that i made you feel alive.

 It was over my face, suffocating me and washing the tears into swirls of deadly water.

and when i belonged to you everything felt right.

 I could feel my heart beating in every part of my body.

 before you, i had no one at all. but after you came i knew i was yours. my hands, my face, my heart; it belonged to you and only you. but you never belonged to me.

I willed myself to keep from thrashing.

why do i love you even though i know you’ll never love me back?

My lungs burned and burned and burned.

and i guess this is the only way to set myself free.

But even as the fire ate at my ribcage, the only thing on my mind was the taste of the vast, empty ocean, and of burning suns shedding starlit tears.

please don’t forget, celia.

Were the stars weeping now?

love,

lucas

I closed my eyes.

Bye Celia.