A/N: Yay! (does the happy fanfic dance) I'm off hiatus early! So here's the latest chapter of "Letters You'll Never Get." Hope you like it. Sorry I haven't been updating very regularly, but life gets in the way. :P
Dear Mr. Shepard,
It really seems like years ago since we crashed here. So much has happened, so much. I mean, we're all different people then we were when we landed. And here we are, "with" people. I don't really like that term, but it's what's used I guess. You're "with" Ana Lucia, and I'm "with" Sawyer. It still makes me cringe. Honestly. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. And sure, Sawyer's okay. No, not just okay, he's really hot, admittedly. But he's not you. I think I've said it before: Sawyer is Sawyer, and you're you. That's all there is to it.
I miss you. I miss the theory that I could be with you. It always used to be nice to imagine that someday, if I got up the guts, and realized just what I was doing, we could "get together." You know, I could be "with" you.
Still hating that word.
And now that little hope, you know, a little thought that used to keep me going occasionally, when I didn't know what I was doing (and we all know how often that occurred) sometimes, it helped me.
So here we are, nothing, a heaping helping of nothing. You. Me. Us. We aren't.
God, I'm starting to wax poetic.
You know what? I'm going to go talk to Sawyer. You and Ana Lucia can do whatever you want.
Preferably something platonic.
Liking sitting five feet apart on the beach, talking about the weather and the price of tea in China.
Sincerely,
Kate
Dear Mr. Shepard,
You make me so angry.
I'm an angry person Jack. People tell me that (including shrinks). I've been told that quite often, and I've gotten used to it. Anger can get things done you know. Anger can save your life.
I haven't seen you angry very often Mr. Shepard, but that can be the most dangerous kind of anger. The one that simmers inside a steady, reliable person until it can't simmer anymore - and then it explodes.
But back to me, because I'm getting tired about talking about unattainable you.
The point about me is that I'm furious. I really am. I'm angry at you for not realizing what I wanted you to realize. For not seeming to understand. For not picking up on whatever…vibes, or signals I was sending. In other words, I'm mad at you for some really stupid things, which doesn't matter, because being mad's my right, and nobody's going to take it from me.
The people in my life that make me mad are the one's I love Mr. Shepard. Either that or they're random strangers with terrible, tacky pick-up lines in seedy bars. There. Said a lot more about me than you wanted to know, eh?
Sometimes I imagine that you read these, so I'm just going to try to make you angry. Really angry. Because after all, I'm mad at you. If I make you mad enough, maybe we can have a good old-fashioned screaming match. I'm good with those. I'm not that good with all this "love" stuff. To confusing, and to intangible.
But a nice, loud, argument would be very tangible, very concrete. I'd take that any day.
Sincerely,
Kate
A/N: Please let me know what you thought of it:D