Okay, here's the thing. Someone, or two of you, suggested that I continue this whole letter thing and bring America's POV into it. :3 I'd decided before I'd posted that it would be a one-off thing, but promised that I'd continue it on your behalf… That was a whole while back from now, and I apologise for that. XD But, despite this, here you have it - America's feelings wrapped up in one letter. Bit of a rant, too, just to let you know. :) I struggled writing this. It seemed a lot harder than England's, so don't be too brutal! Enjoy. ^ 7 ^
P.S: Sorry it's a little short. . Didn't want to make it too long in case it got a bit like "America, we get it already!" xD But yup, here you have it.
I do not own Hetalia.
England. Iggy. Britain. That angry Brit. He's naggy, cold, correcting and magical (if you count magical as having your head in the sky and believing in fairies and unicorns). Nah. Iggy's cool. We have a sibling relationship, I guess you could say. The dude loves to be bigger, stronger and act all mean to you. You'll argue and fight each other and sometimes even lie through your teeth. Well, that's on his half. I'm just the younger brother, taking all the anger, the correction and the lies. All the lies…
You never want to be lied to, bro. Trust me on this one. I should know, considering I've been lied to for a good part of my life. By someone I loved. By him.
He lied to me, misconstrued by what he said and did; how he acted, so kind and caring. That was before. Now's now. I'll never forget our biggest toss up, when I beat him back so that he had tears streaming from those jewels for eyes. Those glimmering emeralds for eyes. I'll never, ever forger it. Not because I don't want to, or I find it funny and as something that was good. Being free is good, but when you miss someone so bad, you can't forget. You can't forget what happened, what they did to you, what caused this. So many factors bring it back, man. It's so, so bad.
It's not like I don't miss him – like I don't care. I do. I fucking do. I pour my heart out to that son of a bitch, man! He's my everything. Ha… Was my everything. If I could have you back, Arthur, I would. But we know it's not as easy as that. Sure, I miss your funny sense of humour when you're absolutely drunk, your cute little smile when engrossed into a book, and the way you attached yourself to me. I do. But I'd only live in fear – in fear of having a similar argument occur again and ruin our relationship once again…
I love you with all my heart, Iggy. But not now. Maybe… Just maybe. But definitely not now.
I'm not ready,
Alfred F. Jones.