Dear Percy.
God. This is really hard. I have written all over five rolls of parchment just trying to start this letter, only to always realise it sounded stupid and lame and crumpling it to pieces and trowing it in the trash. It would have been way more melodramatic to just throw the papers on the floor, but you always hated mess, and I respect that, you know. Even now, when you are gone.
Anyway. I was trying to tell you how hard it is. You not being here. Did you know how much pain will you cause me when you decided to do it? How much I will miss you? I wonder if a person can possibly hate someone while loving them at the same time. Because I love you so much that it hurts, too. Jesus, you were my whole world. You have no idea. But I am honest when I say that I have never stopped loving you, and that my love didn't grow any weaker over the years we had together. And at the same time I kind of hate you for leaving me in this mess. For refusing to fight. For giving up. On yourself, on life, on us. How can I not be? We said we would spend the rest of our lives together, and I just never imagined it would mean such a short time. We were supposed to grow old together, remember? That is what you used to say. So how can I not take this as a complete betrayal? Didn't you love me enough to stay? What would have needed to change for you to… well, it doesn't matter. Whatever I do now, I cannot bring you back. And would you want to come back if I could?
Can you even see me from wherever you are now? Because I wish I could see you, too. I miss you so much it makes me want to throw up. I just never thought not having you here would hurt so much.
But then, maybe I deserve the pain after all. I didn't take good enough care of you after the war. I should have been home more. I shouldn't have left you alone. I shouldn't have gone to practise that day. If I stayed, you would never have had the chance to do this.
I have nightmares now, too. I still remember when I was on my way home and had the strangest feeling that something was wrong, so I hurried a bit. But I was late anyway, wasn't I? God, I will never forget the sight that met my eyes when I opened the door. I never realised one person could possibly bleed so much. There was blood everywhere, the white bathroom completely swimming in red. And you were lying in the middle of all this, barely breathing. The moment I saw you I knew there was nothing I could do. It was too late, you would never have made it to 's anyway. You died in my arms minutes later. I never even got the chance to say goodbye.
How is this fair? Noone should have to bury the one they love, not in this way. It was too cruel, too soon after the war. I thought we were safe. I thought it was going to get better. I didn't know things could be worse than they already were.
How very wrong I was.
I just never really imagined losing you. We were meant to be. We both knew it, even other people knew it and told us many times. How could life be so cruel? How could you?
Uh. I am thinking only about myself now. And I know it is selfish. I am sorry. I tried to understand again and again in just how much pain you possibly must have been, but I couldn't. I don't think anyone who never felt this kind of pain would be able to understand. But I understand you now. Is that perhaps why you did it? To make me see, realise?
I have felt the pain you must have been feeling. And to be honest, I do not know how you could take it. I can't. I think of doing what you did every single day. Because pain must end with death, right? And I would see you again. I'd like that.
But I am too much of a coward. First I thought you were the weak one for succumbing to your demons, but I don't think so anymore. It takes much more strength to actually decide to do it, to end it. Surviving day by day like an empty shell, however… That is pure cowardice. I feel like I am neither here nor there. Because I am not really alive, not in this state. I barely ever leave the apartment. I am saving your clothes with your smell on it, and only allow myself to hug one of your shirts once in a while, because the smell goes away so quickly, and with every piece of clothes that no longer smells like you I feel I am losing you more and more. As though you are slipping through my fingers. What will I do when your presence completely disappears from the apartment?
It took me all the strength I had (and I didn't have much of it at that time) even to clean up the blood from the bathroom. I still see it there, though, whenever I go there, so I try to avoid it. I brush my teeth at the sink now. It would probably make you cringe real hard, using the same place for dishes and washing myself!
I miss you, Percy. Did I say that? I feel so lonely now. I haven't seen anyone in weeks. I don't open the doors to anyone. I don't leave the building. I don't go to practise. I don't eat. I don't do anything much, really. I wish there was something to distract me from the gaping hole in my chest where you used to be. I've tried flying, but even that had lost its appeal. So now I mostly just lie in bed, waiting for the sun to come up and then come down, and surviving like this, day by day. It isn't much of a life. I no longer want to live. I don't want a life without you in it.
Yours forever,
Oliver