Jacob.
They say you're dead. They say you never had a chance. They say that they didn't know you as well as they thought they did. They shake their heads and try to pity me. They know the truth.
Are you dead, Jacob? I'd like to think that I would know if you had died. But I don't know anything anymore. At least not about you.
I tried to follow you, you know. Of course you know. You were there, trying to throw me off, trying to lead me on a wild goose chase.
And I let you. How could I not? You were my Jacob. You were the boy who always used to try and talk to me when we were kids. I told you things I would have never told anyone else.
You were never like all the other boys in the neighborhood – so ready to grow up and get fancy cars and rich girls with daddies who would offer them jobs at their high-end companies. You were okay with being young. I found my soul mate in you.
I know that near to the end, you pretended that you had been waiting for Renesmee the entire time. That you had never loved anyone the way you loved her. That she was your first true love. That's not true, Jacob.
You were obsessed with Bella, Jake. I'm sure that now, now that you're in a so-called 'better place,' you'll understand. It was never about her, was it? It was always about the idea of her. She was whiny and arrogant, and she never loved you, Jacob Black. You just couldn't see it.
And I'd like to think that you loved me, Jake. You told me you did. And I said nothing. I let you walk away.
I could make a thousand excuses for that. I could say that I didn't understand – but I did. I could say that I couldn't see what you saw in me – but I'm not that stupid. We'd always been best friends. And I'd always loved you, Jacob. I knew you better than anyone. And you were the only one besides Sam to see the true Lee-Lee.
I didn't know how to love after Sam, Jake. I couldn't say 'I love you' because I didn't know how to. I was so afraid. Afraid that you were going to look at me someday and say, "Yeah, right. Why should I have to deal with you?"
I love you, Jacob. Loved. I don't even know which tense to use anymore.
It's late, and I think I'll go to sleep now. Not that I'll be able to, but at least I can lay down and pretend that everything is okay – that you'll be at my house bright and early to wake me up so we can go on a run.
I'll always wonder, though. What was your last thought? Did you return, as always, to Renesmee and her mother? Was it about protecting them?
No, I don't think so. They say you were drunk, Jacob. Were you trying to get your mind off of things? How much did you have to drink, Jake? To fully get away from your surroundings?
A lot, I would think. Do you remember when we were little – fifteen seems little to me now, though I felt so old and wise at that age – and we tried to get drunk, just to see what it was like?
You were a happy drunk, Jake. Did you become bitter near the end? I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't talk to the pack anymore. I was happy when I was around you. You weren't just my sun, Jacob. You were my universe. You were my everything.
It hurts too much to think of you right now, Jake. I think I'll go grab a tub of ice cream and a bottle of whiskey and hide in my bed for a little while.
Maybe I'll talk to you later, Jake.
They say that heaven is whatever you make it to be, Jake.
You always were a happy drunk.
Lee-Lee