Dear Marco,
Maybe this is crazy, writing a letter to a dead man, but here I am anyways. If you're watching me from the afterlife, Marco, please don't be too disappointed in me. I am so incredibly sorry that it took your death for me to realize and appreciate all you did for me, and everything you meant to me.
Man, that sounded gay.
If you're watching, Marc, then you know I carry some of your bone fragments in a pouch around my neck. Maybe that's creepy. But I feel like that if I keep those bones close to me, then I'll never really lose you.
Do you remember that time during the Battle of Trost? You told me that I was weak. I was pretty indignant until you explained that my weakness wasn't really a bad thing. You said it gave me a unique understanding of other people and that I was a natural leader. At the time I thought that you were shitting me to make me feel better. I'm not sure that I'm a leader, but I do know that you would never tell me something that wasn't true. So I will try to be what you saw in me.
While I'm writing this, I might as well mention that I'm still pissed at you for dying. I know it's not your fault, so I shouldn't be mad. I'm pissed at me, too. I should have been with you, damn it. Then maybe I'd be telling you this instead of writing it.
I really miss you, Marco. I miss your stupid jokes and your naivete and your idealism. I cry more than I'm willing to admit, even to you.
And something else- something I just realized. The old Jean died when you did, Marco. I'm not who I was, and I'm never going to be him again. I'm going to take what you said to heart. I'm going to try and be a leader and understand people. I want to honor you somehow. I don't wan to meet a disappointing end with someone burning my bones without knowing why I died. I am going to fight for something, and if I have to, then damn it, I'll die for it.
What I'm trying to say is that I'm going to join the Recon Corps. I don't know how or why you died. I am going to spend the rest of my life (not that it will be that long) hunting and killing the things that did this to you. I'm going to fight for something.
Do you remember telling me that I was weak? You made me strong, Marco.
Love always,
Jean