Dear Jack,
Today I gathered with a bunch of first class people, some of whom I've never seen before, but some of them...
Well, some were very familiar.
I guess you'll wonder why I went there in the first place, or before that... even where I went. The truth is that today my crowd buried me in Philadelphia, right next to my father. Isn't it surreal? It definitely felt like that to me. I could never have even contemplated that I would be attending my own funeral.
I saw him, Jack.
Cal was at my wake, standing beside my closed empty casket. He was caressing its smooth wood, but his hand was shaking, I'm guessing from the alcohol.
His face was serious, almost tensed.
I couldn't read it.
He was telling everyone how much he missed me,
how he had loved and cherished me.
Oh Jack, if only they knew.
If only they could have seen my bruises and scars. They are so blind, but we know better, don't we? If he was the hero of the story, he wouldn't have been there saving his family's good name.
Cal wasn't alone though.
Mother was with him, she looked consumed by grief. Her sunken eyes seemed even smaller than they used to be.
I don't regret anything, Jack.
Does this make me a bad daughter?
She did everything in her power and beyond to stifle that fire that you saw in me.
I won't let her. I'll never let go of that promise. All the hell she put me through, affected her just the same, if not worse.
You set me free Jack,
you really did.
You opened the glass jar that kept me imprisoned and I flew away. Like in a fairy tale, where the princess is saved by a handsome prince. Unfortunately, there's no happy ending for the two of us.
Today, as they laid me to rest, I was born again. Rising like a phoenix from its ashes.
I'm a free woman.
Free to decide what I want.
Free to choose who I will become.
The horizon awaits me.
I'm heading West, to Santa Monica.
My feet are eager to step on the open road.
I don't want to live with the idea that we just talked about going to that pier.
I want to physically go there, I want to feel the amber Californian sand under my worn out soles, just like we were supposed to do together. I'll drink that cheap beer and I'll toast to you, to the little time together that we had been gifted.
It hurts to think that I'll never see you again, that I'll never hear the sound of your jovial voice. What I'll do if one day, I won't be able to remember it? I'll go crazy.
But it will all be worth it.
Guess you were just mine to lose.
Oh Jack, my darling
I miss you more than I can explain;
I miss your opal eyes staring into mine and having a conversation of their own,
I miss your artist's hands on my skin,
and our burning desire to be tangled into each other.
I miss the way you made me feel inside.
I now keep you locked in my heart and memory, unable to let go of you.
That night, Jack... a part of me died with you, but a part of you lived, and still lives within me.
I'm still entirely absorbed in the memory of you on that doomed, glorious 14th of April, in my opulent Millionarie Suite:
My silk kimono forgotten on the floor,
as I was posing for you on the divan.
Your sure strokes on the paper,
as you were x-raying my soul.
Eyes like tropical ponds,
Strands of straw-blond hair on your sunburned forehead.
It plays at dusk in my mind as a broken record, a record I'll never get rid of.
I'll keep playing it, just to catch an ephemeral sight of you.
I love you, Jack.
Forever yours,
Rose Dawson
Author's notes:
Here's a new update for you :).
I came up with this story while I was working out on my treadmill and the song 'My Tears Ricochet' by Taylor Swift played on shuffle. Who knows, maybe that's a great way to keep up my inspiration to write. By the way, thank you so much for reading!.
QUICK NOTE ON 'THE SHADOW' - I've been trying really hard to write some sort of sequel to it, but I've only managed to scribble some mediocre nonsense.
If you'd like to help me through this writer block, feel free to send me a PM.
Jack, Cal, Rose and Ruth belong to James Cameron.
