My dear Jean,
You didn't notice, when I was gone.
In fact I'm not sure really anyone noticed. Now when I had died in a way that I wish wasn't so, alone, I have no regrets about my death. At first, I admit, I was terrified, I did everything I could for someone to notice me, and when I saw you cleaning up the dead? I reacted shamefully. I cried out your name until my voice painfully scraped through my throat, I tried to grab onto your clothing, anything anything to get you to come over and find me, but it seemed like nothing I could do could get you to finally notice me. But by some miracle, you did. Maybe my pleas and shouts actually reached your ears, I do not know, all that matters is that you recognized my face, as hideous and deformed as it was, and it was the sweetest relief,who would have known the dead could weep? Don't beat yourself up Jean, for not noticing sooner, It was to be expected with everything that was going on at the time, and I never was one for much attention. It was you, Jean, that needed the attention- you still do. You need to rely on someone to lead your path,and show you the way when you are blindly falling through the dark,to help you grow. It doesn't make you weak, to need to rely on someone, it does the opposite. You're able to rely and trust on others,and in return people can do the same with you. I meant it when I said you would be a good leader one day. My only wish is for me to be that person,the one to lead you and be by your side even in my death. Though I might not be noticeable to your sense's,unseen by your eyes ,unheard by your ears, just know that I will always be there, to be the true wings of freedom on your back.
Forever your wings,
Marco Bodt