Y – You

Dear Jess,

Oh God, Jess. I don't know how to start this letter. You don't know how much it pains me to write this, in both senses of the word. Actually, maybe you do. You've been there with me through it all, haven't you? You've suffered twice as much as me.

Thanks for the presents. The xylophone made me laugh all day, and that hasn't really happened in a while without you being there. The grapes…well, you certainly know the route to a man's heart. Seriously, though, thank you so much, for everything.

Lauren came to see me. She saw Dad a few weeks ago; apparently he's doing well, considering. Still moaning on about rude teenagers and obesity these days. But anyway, Lauren said you sounded like a lovely girl. She was right about that.

From the moment I saw you, Jess, I loved you. I can't explain that feeling, as if you've suddenly got a purpose in life. I might not have showed it, but I clung to your every word. I noticed what you were wearing; I noticed what mood you were in. I'm crap at all that kind of thing out loud, but I noticed.

You were so pretty. I wanted to run my hands through your hair, to feel your lips against mine. And then I did. And I didn't want it to end, ever. It was like, when I was with you, nothing else mattered. I only hope you felt a little of the same towards me.

They only told me yesterday about the operation time – apparently a slot opened up in theatre. I guess it meant only a day to worry. You won't get this until I'm already in there; please forgive me for not telling you sooner. I would've done. But I didn't want to worry you. Everything I do is for you, Jess. I really want you to know that.

So, if I don't make it, I want you to move on. I don't want to think you'd forget me, but if you dare mourn the rest of your life over some emotional retard you'll have me to answer to. Or Connor anyway.

Find a husband, someone who'll love you as I do; who'll treat you as you deserve. Have kids, and make sure you give them names they can live with. And always remember, whatever happens, I'll be proud of you.

My funeral. I don't have a lot, but what I do is left officially to my father and Lauren. She knows what to do – anything that means anything to me will be yours. And I'll be buried in the blanket; I spent all of last night sewing hearts around your name. Seemed like a fitting show of love – known but not seen.

I should shut up. My English teacher always told me I'd do so much better in life if I could channel my written work into language. That was never going to happen. I just like to express things on paper. It's there to hold on to then, isn't it? Can't be forgotten so easily? Or maybe things in the heart are stronger – there no matter what happens to your possessions over the years.

And if those doctors do their job well, which I'm kind of hoping they will, we can laugh at this letter in the years to come. See what sentimental idiots we were in youthful years. If you can call me youthful…

Janey's coming now – to switch out the lights. She likes me to get a good night's sleep. So I should go, before she gets mad.

I love you, Jess. I love you so, so much. Remember that.

Becker xxx

XxXxX

*cowers - whispers* Please don't kill me :(