Dear Emma:
You may be wondering why I wrote a letter to you. I've been MIA for more than a decade, no calls, no texts, no e-mails. Lately I've been hanging around with you, but we barely talked, so why now, in such an old-fashioned way at the eve of an apocalypse? You see, that's the point. For the first time - maybe the last time - in a long time, I want to communicate with you, openly, honestly and cathartically. I have an urgent need to confide everything in you, baring my truest feelings for you and reminiscing my shared memories with you. It is the right thing to do, and I'm here laying my clearest thoughts and sincerest opinions of you out on the paper to smash the deadlock situation between us before it's too late.
The crisis we're in is critical. A curse is upon us, and it may cause the same catastrophic effect that the last one did. If we get victimized, it could make us perfect strangers, confused, hopeless, living in a false pattern of life, seeing each other everyday without remembering who we are, meeting each other yet with a chasm wider than the distance between Manhattan and Tallahassee. That would be a heart-shaped wreckage, a realm of oblivion for eons, ruled by a satan in form of our son. Thinking of this impending nightmare, I'm scared, even desperate as I can tell. It may not kill us, but I wish it could, because losing our friends and family would be a fate worse than death. I know you've been there, Emma, in such a living hell with our people waiting for your salvation. That was what Storybrooke used to be. Henry told me everything. If that is the inevitable fate that we're damned to embrace, please take this letter as my last words to you when I'm yet Neal, you're yet Emma and we're yet together.
Frankly, I'm in awe of you as I've always been. You're my companion, my hero, my role model, my best friend, my dream that I could ever cling to, my savior that I'm forever grateful to, and most of all, my love. Though it sounds like a cheesy flattery, Lord knows I mean every word of it. I wouldn't have pursued you if I had known how special you were when we were dating in Portland, nor would I have the audacity to beg for your forgiveness with a huge leap of faith in me after all the pain and sorrow you have been through because of my fault, yet twice you miraculously managed to come back to me, delivering me from my solitude and despair as if you heeded my prayers. No matter how far or how long we are parted, you always find me when I thought I would never see you again.
And Henry, our brave, amazing, wonderful boy. Us born for each other might be an overstatement, but Henry is definitely born for us. He is the driving force that raises us from ordinary to extraordinary. With the benefit of the doubt in us, you once told me that he's the only good thing that comes from us being together, while to me, he's a blessing that's too good to be real. Flabbergasted, that'd be the term to describe my state of mind when I first met him in my New York apartment with your confirmation of my relation to him. All of a sudden, I became a father of a child that I had with you! A son whom I didn't even know existed! It was a breaking news that shocked me and instantly put some responsibility on me as I realized. I decided to be a permanent part of his life theretofore, helping him grow into a man that carries the best traits of us. I've missed everything in his early life - his first step, his birthdays, everything, but he's only eleven and there's still time to bond with him. For more than a hundred years, I'd been estranged from my father, which I would not let happen to him. That you can count on me.
Our boy was branded as the truest believer, which, unfortunately, happened to be the reason he was kidnapped for. He always has a vision that he sees coming, a picture that we're all pixels of. When we're in doubt, he pushes us hard, sometimes even risking his life to prove how right he is. Genetically, I guess that part of him is from me and my line. "What happens happens by design, no coincidence," that's what I'd been told of by my father when I was yet with him as a kid, and I'm sure that when we were at the bar in New York City, I must've divulged it to you, hoping to enlighten you with my insight. Not finding excuses for myself by that explanation, I wished you could understand that I did what I was supposed to do for a greater good of our future and our homeland's, and now I still do. On my chosen path, my journey crossed yours. It started in Portland on 2001.
I could never forget the dramatic acquaintance we made in the small confines of the vintage yellow bug that I first stole for myself for a nomadic lifestyle ahead. I was resting in the backseat, lying still in a half sleep, adrift and relaxed, but not for long. Around eight o'clock in the morning, the car unexpectedly whipped forward in a steady rush, wheels turning and engine roaring. In sync with its rhythm, my body started trembling, taking me by surprise. I wasn't sure if I was awakening from a dream or just shifting into another as I was clueless at what had just happened and why the car was suddenly on the move. I wondered if I had died peacefully a minute ago, because when I peeked up, I saw an angel's face in the rearview mirror, driving the vehicle and me out of earth, ready to take off onto a spiritual flight towards the fuzzy light of paradise. Her long blonde hair was pulled back and tied up in a sleek ponytail, a pair of stylistic hipster glasses on her straight nose, two pink clouds on her fearsome cheeks, and shimmering in her bright blue eyes was a mix of nervousness and excitement that was strikingly affectionate. She glanced around in vigilance, a triumphant smile lingering at the corner of her mouth, as if in celebration of her success at the completion of her first soul-picking assignment, a shred of confidence regained and a stomach of butterflies suppressed. She calmed down, recovering what was left in her equilibrium, fresh energy almost palpable in the air.
That was your very first impression to me. In that one nanosecond, I really thought that you were a wingless angel descending upon me, but nonetheless I figured it out in the next that you were a naughty girl engaged in the same gig that I was just entitled to. What you had just done was a remarkable job. It was quick, crisp and natural, as if you were clambering in your own car. As you were not aware of my presence in proximity at all, I decided to introduce myself to you with a little compliment - which, of course, startled the color out of your face, making you gasp and shriek like a frightened little girl. Oh, what a fascinating creature you were! You enthralled me before you could say a word. I would grade you an A for gumption, an A plus for "professional" skills, but maybe a bit lower for your driving as your maladroitness didn't go unnoticed in my observation. The way you steered the wheel, the way you pressed the pedals, and the worst of all, the little focus you drew on the road as you were so easily distracted in my meet-and-greet banter with you, put both of us in a flight risk of being caught like two little kids with their hands in the cookie jar. The minute you passed a STOP sign, we got a cop tailing us, which was really terrifying. Luckily, I saved us out of the trouble as I referred you as my girlfriend, a convincing apology to the officer despite your angry, questioning stare at me. By this impromptu, I sealed the deal of our relationship.
The following days were the best time of my life, so surreal with my feet off the ground, just like a fairytale which I would summarize like this: Once upon a time, a girl ran into a boy inside a car. She aimed at his heart with Cupid's arrow, and by a single shot with impeccable accuracy, she got him and he was spellbound. Together, they started their carefree adventure. He taught her how to drive, she taught him how to dream, and in progress of doing so, they felt helplessly attracted to each other, physically and emotionally, a burgeoning romance with an irresistible chemistry. They were two rebels without a cause, living on the road, teaming up against the world, and searching for the promised land with a bluer sky. As the time went on, they got to know each other better, and they found themselves having an astonishing lot in common - a childhood of loneliness with an empty hole inside that had never been filled up. They were like two sunflowers, growing up in the dark, yet always turning their faces to the light. By this discovery, he fell into her deeper with empathy and hope. The comfort of her being in his company was reassuring, and when she looked at him, it was precisely the way that every guy wanted to be looked at by a girl. One day after a good snatch of a load of supplies, they sneaked into their hideaway, a small duplex room where they made their commitment of settling down in the sunny state down south. Then they kissed, from vertical form to horizontal form without their lips disconnected. Witnessing it all in silence was a dreamcatcher hung on the lamp with their dream captured in its net.
What they did next was mind-blowing. They dropped their defenses, lost in a sweet surrender, her on him, him in her, face to face, skin against skin. As they spiraled into the climax simultaneously, she held him tight and he let it go. The whole world faded away, the flows of her breath and the beats of his heart playing a duet, an intoxicating, astral sound upon his ears. At that one fleeting, marvelous moment, they were one, fused and combined, and there was only them and the dreamcatcher. He felt intimacy. He felt pleasure. He felt a frisson of ecstasy in an outburst of relief. And he felt love, a fantastic thing that he had never experienced before. Taken by the unparalleled sensation, he was up high, his body melted down like a snowman in the golden sunshine of early spring, and she, a rose blossomed for him in splendor, had her incarnation complete. When her soothing warmth drew him back, the glorious crescendo was down to a tranquilizing serenade, the music of his pulse harmonizing with the singing in her veins. He found his arm wrapped around her waist, her head resting on his shoulder, his free hand in a firm grasp at hers, their fingers knotted, and their legs entwined. He nuzzled her soft tresses, inhaling the heavenly scent of her, and she responded with a face-splitting grin that was perfectly sensible on his chest. That was the joy that he was paralyzed with, the overwhelming joy that he could never imagine a purer form of. He wished the clock could stop ticking, so they could stay like that forever.
In retrospect, the irony of our Emmy-winning performance in the convenient store was appalling. The consequence of what we did on the mattress should've been perfectly foreseeable to any adults, but that didn't include us. We were too immature to know a thing or two about birth control, let alone the fact that neither of us was properly educated. I guess we both would cringe in the sheer embarrassment whenever we revisit that pivotal point of our lives. We had magic running through us as we desired, but later you were left alone to pay the price and I despicably slithered my way to Canada. It was another "good haul", which, unlike the last one, was not in your clothes, but in you; not nine minutes, but nine straight months; and during that time when you needed me the most, I wasn't there for you. The only considerate thing I did for you was sending you what I owed you, the car and the cash, but I assumed it justified nothing as I already vanished without saying goodbye.
The abandonment of you, along with the incrimination, was my deepest regret. Since then, there hadn't been a day I didn't feel guilty about my cowardly decision. As the wanted man whose face was printed on a flyer, I should be the one behind the bars, giving you time, space and freedom to fulfill your destiny under August's protection and guidance without my bad influence. That man claimed himself your guardian angel. Somehow he knew I was Baelfire, my real name in the Enchanted Forest before I landed in this world, thus I was freaked out. In panic, I had no choice but listening to him as I shuddered at his undeniable credibility and condescending tone. He half-threatened me to leave you behind and promised to take care of you when you were released from jail, but obviously he hadn't accomplished the latter one. I know there's no use to blame him now since he's transformed back to a seven-year-old kid with the reverend mother's blessing, but you deserved to know the truth.
The time you spent in jail was one thing, the damage it did to you in the years to come was another. Eleven years thereafter, I'm still the sentimental, easygoing and compassionate guy, but to you, everything has changed. Through the hardship of life and all alone, you've risen from the ashes of past, getting back on your feet and having found your family. I couldn't be more proud of the tough, resilient, independent woman you've become of, but sadly, when I look into your eyes, I see another side of you, a side in shades of low self-esteem and severe cynicism, a side that used to be all of me when I was in Neverland with the Lost Boys but had never been seen in you when we were together. When being possessed by this side, it's an endless suffering, like an invisible hand slowly choking you up, and the only way to loosen its grasp is love.
Loving you is to be the rock for you to lean on and the shoulder for you to cry on. It is to catch you when you fall, to help you bringing the best version of yourself, and to discover a pristine place that you didn't know exists in your soul. That is what love's supposed to be, which I had never understood until I lost you. I thought I could move on from you, but I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. A part of you was with me forever, haunting me and torturing me. Every day and night, I missed your authenticity, your innocence and your earnestness. Those qualities are what I could never find in any other women - which reminded me of how wrong I was about Tamara.
My bad judgement of character is something I'm ashamed of. About a month or so after your first arrival in Storybrooke, Tamara got me on her hook as she "accidentally" spilled a cup of coffee on me. She was a typical New Yorker from Brooklyn, sharp and decisive in action, sophisticated and two-faced in social life, and nonetheless, always in control when she was with me. She was also disingenuous and being cryptic at speech, never showing what she felt inside. Even when she was in bed, it felt more like an act of twerking, mechanical and impassive. Effortlessly, she talked me into the engagement without me knowing of her background, her family, her job or her religion. I foolishly laid trust in her, nodding to anything she suggested without suspicions of her motives until she pointed a gun at me in the cannery. Underneath her beguiling surface was a villainess who aimed to subvert the world, and I was miserably being used as a pawn in her plan. Whereas you never stopped loving me in all these years, she never loved me. The only souvenir I received from her was a bullet in my chest and a trip to our ravaged homeland.
When I hit the ground, I was practically dying, unconscious and bleeding. It was your friends - Aurora, Mulan and prince Phillip - who moved me to their palace and took good care of me. Without them, I wouldn't survived. I was blessed to have these kind people save me on time, which made me realize that it might be God's message to me. This second life was my second chance. It was meant to be my redemption for the mistakes I made. Soon I found out that you and Henry were in jeopardy as I saw your worried face in Neverland in my father's crystal ball, I knew it was the time to set off, and I was honored and privileged to do so. Before my wound was fully healed, I summoned the shadow for a free ride to the island. Unfortunately, it was all in Pan's calculation. Right at my landing spot, Felix awaited. I was locked up in a cage and placed in the Echo Cave, and the news was soon delivered to you to draw you in. Knowing it might be a trap that could put you and the entire team in danger, you still came to me and set me free at the cost of revealing your darkest secret, for which I'm forever in debt to you.
It was a bittersweet reunion for both of us, with emotional turmoil and inexhaustible elation. I yearned to rekindle our flame, but things had been different and we were no longer Bonnie and Clyde. Henry was in trouble, Hook was involved in our complexities, and the odds didn't favor me. As parents, we must put Henry's best interest before us, sometimes it requires the capacity to make a sacrifice. Beyond that, you are the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White. It's the weight on your shoulders to see goodness in people and fight for their rights, not only as the savior, but as a member of the royal family. I know you're more than capable of your duty, and I'm hoping to be there supporting your work, upholding your ideals, climbing every mountain with you and fighting every battle beside you. With that being said, I'll always respect your choice. As long as you and Henry are happy, I won't be jealous if you ended up with Hook, and I won't be angry if you insisted to shun me.
I'm fully aware of what an inappropriate timing it is to discuss these things given to the gloomy, pressing future that draws near. Peter Pan is in our boy's body, and the curse will destroy everyone's happiness. As long as he breathes, none of us is safe, and my wishes are just empty wishes that will never come true. However, in the flip side, there's always hope. If we yet stand a chance to stop him, we'll give it a try and do our best, working together with our folks; even if we failed, any curse can be broken; and if you're lucky enough to escape from its reach, promise me that you will strike back and break it with your true love kiss. If there comes a problem to locate the new world that Pan endeavors to concoct, there's a magical item that Tamara hid in the storage room of my New York apartment and it might be the key. I know you can do this, for you're the savior who always finds what she's looking for and never ceases to amaze me, and I wish you the best of luck.
I'm never gonna stop fighting for you.
Your Love in Spirit
Neal Cassidy