Dear Marco,

...

Dear Freckles,

...

Dearest Marco,

...

Marco

Fuck those dumb greetings. You know who you are. Like you need to read your own name at the top of some dumb letter. Like it's gonna be for anyone else.

I know it seems a little crazy, writing you letters and hoping that you can read them from beyond the grave... But honestly, I've got nothing left to try. I can't bottle things up any more, and there's nobody who will listen to me properly. Other than you. That's why I've got to write all this shit down and hope you can read it. Somehow...

It's not going to be a happy letter.

I wish it was.

You don't need to be putting up with my bullshit even after you escaped this world. I'm sorry I can't be happy for you like I want to be. I want out too... But I have to keep fighting. Otherwise my life has been meaningless, and I don't want that. I don't care to be remembered like a hero for years to come. I just want my life to have meant something. Like yours did for me. For all of us in the 104th.

So here it is...

I cry out and get no reply. I miss you so much it hurts, and every sunrise without you makes my heart sink a little lower. I miss waking up before dawn so you can go back to your own bunk before Shadis comes to wake us up. I miss feeling your warmth next to me, and the way I fell asleep at night counting your freckles.

I can't feel you here by my side. It kills me slowly knowing that I can't feel you with my any more. You were always there, and I always knew, whether I saw you or not. It was where I belonged. I belonged by your side. Now... I don't feel like I truly belong anywhere. It feels as though people put up with me because they have to. It... It never felt like that with you.

I just have to hold tight to what I know. I know that you're still here with me. Even though I can't see you, or feel you, I know you're still here with me. You have to be. The knowledge of that is the only thing that gets me up every damned morning. The only thing that keeps me going. The only thing that protects my will to live. If I didn't think you were still here with me, I'd be a dead man already. I barely have the will to live as it is.

I'm not alone.

Even though it feels like it.

Oh, fuck this. You know how shit I am at writing crap down. I've never been one to be all mushy and shit. Except with you, I guess... You never judged me. I never had to act tough for you. Fuck this, I'm crying all over the page. Sorry if anything gets smudged. I've already written this damned letter three times trying to figure out what I want to say. I'm not doing it again. Even though I think the entirety of what I've already written is bullshit.

You don't think so, though... Do you?

You never thought I was shit with stuff... Or if you did, you never told me. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing... Though I felt like you would have told me. That's what friends are for, right? I'm making myself cry again... God, I miss you so much.

I need a break. Writing was never my thing. I'm not done yet, but... If I don't take a break, I'll break down... Like I don't get enough complaints about that already.

((*Picture is cover image*))

Here. I drew this for us. I'm feeling a little better now, I guess. Less likely to cry. I was never able to get all your freckles accurate, and I'm scared that I'm going to forget the patterns I made up between them. Each little constellation on your skin. Constellations only we knew of. Ones that mapped out and told the story of our relationship. Our... Love.

I love you, Marco.

I always have. I know I never told you... Not with those words. I regret that now. I should have told you every day. I should have told you while I could still see your smile.

Ha... Shoulda woulda coulda, right? It doesn't make any difference now.

Maybe if I had told you, it wouldn't have ended that way.

You can't imagine the horror I felt when I saw you there. Saw you laying there against that building... With half of you just... gone. It was like my heart tore clean in two along with you. I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing for a long time. Even for a long time after that, I just couldn't wrap my head around what I was seeing. It wasn't until I was watching you burn that I really understood what had happened.

It kills me that I still don't know which of those bones were yours, though. I still have it. The shard I picked up from the ground. I don't know if it's yours. I hope it is. But I picked it up more to remind me of the fact I should have known. I should have been there. I should have stopped it.

All I have left to cling to is the hope that you went out with dignity.

I know you did.

You will have gone down fighting, fighting to the last breath...

I'm not going to place myself in your mind. I might be an egotistical asshole, but I'm not that bad. I'm not so selfish as to want your dying thoughts for me...

Fuck it, maybe I am. I hope you were thinking of me. I know I'll be thinking about you every moment of my life. And in my dying moments, I'll be thinking of you, waiting to join you up there in heaven...

My candle is burning low.

I should probably wrap this up, huh?

My arm is aching.

My head is aching.

My heart is aching.

I miss you, Marco.

Love, Jean.