A letter from Luke to Leia after ESB. In case it's not clear, he didn't send it. He just wrote it. Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, don't reprint without my permission, and all that jazz.
Dearest Leia,
If I told you my father was still alive, would you hate me? Of course not—you'd probably be very happy for me. But if I told you that Darth Vader was my father, then would you hate me? Would you even believe me? Do I believe him? I don't know. It feels true, but maybe I'm just desperate for a father. For any father, be he saint or devil. I used to think he was a saint. You heard the way I talked about him. If you knew it was all made up, would you blame me for it? What if I didn't know it was made up? Would you believe that Ben lied to me? He told me my father was a noble Jedi, that he was a great pilot, that he fought in the Clone Wars, that he was a hero. And maybe that's all true, I don't know, but Ben also told me that Vader betrayed and murdered my father. That lie has fueled my whole life for the past three years. I wanted to be a Jedi to avenge my father's death. Now I don't know why I want to be a Jedi anymore. Or if I want to be a Jedi anymore. Right now, I just want to sink into oblivion. If Han were still here, maybe I'd leave with him, help him pay off Jabba, then be a smuggler for a while and hope no one would ever find me. But he's not here, and it's all my fault. If I'd gotten there faster, or if I'd realized what the carbonite was when I saw it, or if Vader wasn't so damned eager to find me. If I wasn't the bastard child of a Sith Lord, maybe none of this would have happened.
I have so many questions that I don't think anyone can answer except for him, but I'm scared to talk to him. Is he evil? Am I evil? I've killed so many people and I'm becoming so aware of it. It's silly, but I just swatted a bug and I'm feeling guilty about it. It was trivial, but it was an annoyance, so I destroyed it without a thought. And now I can see it lying there on the floor, dead. The first night after the Death Star, I was sick all night. I told myself it was the party, the drinking, the excitement, grief over my family and Biggs, but I knew it wasn't. I just couldn't admit that I was horrified over my killing so many people, even if they were Imperials. They were people. Was it evil if I didn't think it was at the time? And if it was evil, was it because of him? He's the only family I know. How much of him is in me? How much of me is in him?
I'm too young for all of this anyway. And he knows it and he's taking full advantage of it. I haven't finished growing and learning. Despite what I'd like to think, I'm still pretty young. When you needed someone to care for you, you had Han, and you'll have him again, but I have no one. I need a parent. I need a family.
And if I told you I wanted that family to be him, would you hate me then? Would you label me a traitor? Did you label me a traitor as soon as you found out who my father is? If I told you that despite my fear, I still want to know him, to be with him, to maybe have him hold me just once, could you understand that at all? It's all right if you don't, I don't expect you to, but could you forgive it? Can you ever forgive me?
If you're reading this, I expect I've gone. I can't say where, really. Maybe I'm dead, maybe I've left, maybe I've gone to Vader. Maybe we're all dead and this will sit untouched until it disintegrates. If I'm not dead, please don't try and find me. If I need you, I promise I'll seek you out. I just wanted you to understand, if I have to leave, why I have to go. I wish you and Han all the happiness in the world. Even the happiness I once wanted for myself. I think, now, trying to regain everything I've lost would probably result in my losing everything I have left.
All my love,
Luke
PS: The bug just flew away. I guess it wasn't dead after all.