This takes place during the time of "New Moon", just after Edward leaves Bella and she resorts to writing him letters to cope.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the rights to "Twilight".

Dear Edward,

It's been days since I heard your voice, if that's what it was. I keep trying to understand how it could have happened…what happened? Were you there? I can't reconcile it. Or am I finally going off the deep end? I always heard you can't be crazy if you wonder if you're crazy, but that doesn't make sense….to be wondering about being crazy and feeling crazy while wondering just is crazy. Ok, I want to scratch that part out. I am rambling and nonsensical now. It was wonderful to have you with me, Edward. After all my pretending that day, it was the only real thing, I know it, I felt it. It's like I finally woke up after all of this time. I am awake now, and still my living, breathing, and consciousness all are tied to you. As disturbing as that sounds, somehow it gives me peace to acknowledge it. I have acceptance. I will always love you and that will not change. I have been fighting this fact, full of anger, remorse, grief, and overwhelming pain, all of the stages of grief and loss. I have tried to move on and forget you as a way to heal my heart. None of it has worked. I have decided now that I will not lose you. You may be gone, you may not want me anymore, but I will always want you, and the stability and constancy of that desire comfort me. I can control what I want, even if you are a wisp of a dream I can no longer grasp.

I called Jacob tonight and am seeing him tomorrow. Calling him definitely was part of my rebellious grief. I'm still going to see him, though. I have to try to avoid wondering or caring how you might feel about him; that will be the hard part…releasing my need and desire for you to want and love me. I may have decided I will never get over you, but I am not sure I can get over your not wanting me.

I'll write again tomorrow after I see Jacob….so I will pause this with a kiss. Can you smell the imprint of my breath on the page? Sometimes I still can smell your rich, delicious scent. Your lovely shirt you forgot has finally lost its trace of you. Carrot has resorted to sleeping on it, which is quite amusing. By the way, I don't think she likes me writing you so often. Every time I start writing, of course the tears start flowing, and she promptly plops down on my paper as a means of interrupting my tears.

I'm back….and Edward, it happened again…..how?!!!! How can I hear you and feel you close by? Jacob and I were riding in my truck and a car narrowly swiped us. I could hear, clear as day, your voice entreating me to, "Hold on, duck your head!" Jacob steered the car quickly to the side of the road, and moments later the owner of that truck turned around and threw beer cans at us; one of them crashed on the window next to me and cracked the glass. My face was averted, though, and I didn't get hurt….all because of you. You still protected me. Thank you, Edward. How did you do it? Did Alice help you? Were you there? Were you there, Edward?

Jacob apologized over and over, thinking he caused all of this with his choice to pull to the side of the road. I have to tell you that I hugged him tonight. His worry and concern overshadowed my reluctance to touch him and give him the illusion of hope. His warmth brought me comfort, though, and I clung to him like a child. I must confess I even closed my eyes and pictured you holding me, rocking me with your strong, cold arms wrapped tightly around me. I inadvertently responded to Jacob and his tightened grip hurt my ribs. I quickly broke away, then, and made a joke to cover what happened.

My ribs are bruised, though, and I took a long, hot bath to relax my mind and the ache in my side. I am curled up in bed now and Carrot is snuggling up to me as I write you. Luckily, she is contented, for the moment, to sit by my side and not interrupt this letter. She is my constant bed companion now, not you.

Good night, Edward, please come be with me again. Right now I feel you are my "Catherine" and I am "Heathcliff", desperately searching the dark abyss of the moors to find you and bring you home. Will you come home?

Love,

Bella

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