Disclaimer: Christian and Satine are the property of Baz Luhrmann & Bazmark.
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It hurts me so much to see my darling boy like this. He has become a drunken shadow of his former self; thin and unkempt. The fire in his eyes that once burned with passion has been replaced by a fire of overwhelming anger. The eyes that were once only for me now have a new darling. Absinthe. It's killing him, but I am helpless to do anything. Now I understand how he felt.
Sometimes, late at night, I have visited his room and watched him sleep. I remember waking up next to him in the mornings, and watching his face as he slowly came awake. He had no lines on his face, and the only emotion that there ever was was love. He used to touch my face softly, as if testing to see that I was really there. It never failed to make me smile, and I have since realised that that was most probably the reason he did it.
Now, as I watch him sleep, his brow is creased and his eyes are puffy from the tears. I would give anything to stop the tears, to let him know that everything is going to be okay. But of course I can't. I have stroked his face, and tried to tell him that I love him, hoping beyond hope that somehow he could hear me. But he never could. He had put up such a strong emotional barrier around himself that not even my love could penetrate it.
He has been so cruel to those around him. The people he loves, and that love him. The Christian I knew would have never done that. He became an entirely different person after I left. I can't help but think it was my fault. Poor Toulouse has endured it, but his other friends have abandoned him.
He was my angel. He taught me to love, just as one might teach a child to walk. He brought me the salvation I needed, and even though I know our romance would end in tragedy, I would do it all again in an instant. The time that I knew him was the happiest time of my life.
I have one regret from my time with Christian, and it brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. I never told him that I loved him enough. He would profess his love for me every day, either through song, or poem, or whispering it in my ear while he held me tight. I had told him a handful of times, and thought it was enough. He knew how I felt. Didn't he? I know now that you can never say 'I love you' too many times.
Christian, my darling, if you can hear me I need you to know that I am alright. My heart aches for you every day, and I look forward to the moment when we will be together again, but it is not yet. You have so much living to do, so much new love to experience. I need you to carry on. I need you to write our story. I have to go now my love. I will return tomorrow night and tell you this again, hoping you will have moved through your grief a little more, and are able to hear my words. Goodbye my darling. Sweet dreams. Oh, and Christian...
I love you.
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It hurts me so much to see my darling boy like this. He has become a drunken shadow of his former self; thin and unkempt. The fire in his eyes that once burned with passion has been replaced by a fire of overwhelming anger. The eyes that were once only for me now have a new darling. Absinthe. It's killing him, but I am helpless to do anything. Now I understand how he felt.
Sometimes, late at night, I have visited his room and watched him sleep. I remember waking up next to him in the mornings, and watching his face as he slowly came awake. He had no lines on his face, and the only emotion that there ever was was love. He used to touch my face softly, as if testing to see that I was really there. It never failed to make me smile, and I have since realised that that was most probably the reason he did it.
Now, as I watch him sleep, his brow is creased and his eyes are puffy from the tears. I would give anything to stop the tears, to let him know that everything is going to be okay. But of course I can't. I have stroked his face, and tried to tell him that I love him, hoping beyond hope that somehow he could hear me. But he never could. He had put up such a strong emotional barrier around himself that not even my love could penetrate it.
He has been so cruel to those around him. The people he loves, and that love him. The Christian I knew would have never done that. He became an entirely different person after I left. I can't help but think it was my fault. Poor Toulouse has endured it, but his other friends have abandoned him.
He was my angel. He taught me to love, just as one might teach a child to walk. He brought me the salvation I needed, and even though I know our romance would end in tragedy, I would do it all again in an instant. The time that I knew him was the happiest time of my life.
I have one regret from my time with Christian, and it brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. I never told him that I loved him enough. He would profess his love for me every day, either through song, or poem, or whispering it in my ear while he held me tight. I had told him a handful of times, and thought it was enough. He knew how I felt. Didn't he? I know now that you can never say 'I love you' too many times.
Christian, my darling, if you can hear me I need you to know that I am alright. My heart aches for you every day, and I look forward to the moment when we will be together again, but it is not yet. You have so much living to do, so much new love to experience. I need you to carry on. I need you to write our story. I have to go now my love. I will return tomorrow night and tell you this again, hoping you will have moved through your grief a little more, and are able to hear my words. Goodbye my darling. Sweet dreams. Oh, and Christian...
I love you.