So here we are. Again, thank you so very much for putting up with me all this time. This is how 'Wreckage' ends. I hope you continue to read my other stories, some of you already have, and I'm so thankful for it.

What you are about to read, well... it doesn't even has the intention to be beautiful, so maybe it's not. It's more personal, kind of my own rant about death and loss. Anyway, I hope you like it.

And again, thank you so very much.

A lonely tree grows slowly in the middle of the forest around Burgess lake. It's magnificent, tall and strong, and it hasn't always been this lonely. This tree used to mean a lot to Jack and Elsa, now death and forgotten.

Nothing remains of them except their carved names, and a closed letter that has become just a tiny piece of wet and yellow paper. This is it. All their friends are also gone, and Jack's family never got to know him when he was actually just Jack.

But if this tree had a memory, he would know. He would know exactly who they were.

...and he would know how much they loved each other.

Hey, Elsa. I don't know exactly why I'm writing this letter for, but it kind of feels like you will be able to read it, so here it goes.

I'm getting married tomorrow, Elsa. She is really nice, and I know you would have like her. But the thing is, here I am, hours before my wedding and the only thing I can think about is writting this to you.

I just... I can't... Or worse... I can.

I can, Elsa...

I can do this, I can do this, I can live without you. Or something like that. You are not gone. I'm not without you, you are always around me. I can't help but to find you, it's just that you have changed. But maybe it was me who changed you into this memory that I want to get rid off, but at the same time I need to hold on to.

Lately I'm not scared of being remided of you. In fact I like it, but no one ever brings you up because they think that it damages me. If only they knew... Elsa, what kind of a man I am? What kind of a coward? How is it that I'm afraid to look to our best friends in the eyes and tell them what I need? Just tell them "Please, please, tell me how Elsa was, because it's being quite a while since I started to forget..."

But although I can't remember you very well, I think about you first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. Sometimes I can't sleep thinking about you. And this pain inside is just as big as it has always been, but I've finally learned how to live with it. I've gotten used to this empty space inside me, I've learned how to be happy even with this hole piercing my soul. I can keep my sadness in one special corner of my mind, and it is always there screaming at me, but it doesn't spread anymore. And I have it there, always there, just there, and I like it to be there, so I can know where to find my sadness just in case one day I need to use it. Like tonight.

It works the same as your box. You know, I have kept you inside this box below my bed for years, so the memory of you is there and nowhere else. And I always think about you and think you are all around me but then I remember that it isn't possible, that you are inside my box and there is no way you could have gotten out without me opening it, so I say to myself "don't open it". And I never do. It contains all my photos of you, of us, and I won't dare to look at them because I have changed and you are always like that, always, always young and smiling as if you were not even a person. And I do have changed, I've grown old, and my spirit is dry. I know if I looked at those pictures I would wonder who that boy is, and why is he so happy if life isn't such a happy thing. And I would like to warn him, to let him know that he is a fool and that love doesn't matter if fate decides to step in. It also contains your hoodie, remember it? You used to wear it a lot before you gave it to me, and after you were gone I wore it all the time, all the time, trying to imagine that it still smelled like you. I even had it on the day I tried to kill myself...

You probbably knew that already, didn't you? Elsa, I tried to kill myself. I'm so sorry, I know now that I would have failed you, that this life is what you must have wanted for me, a chance to be happy. Luckily (luckily?) they managed to save me. Elsa, do you want to know something funny? I think I dreamt of you while I was out, and I can't remember what my dream was about, but I've always felt that it helped me. Elsa, would you be mad at me if I told you that... that to this day opening my eyes and realizing that I was still alive is the worse moment of my live? Worse than when you died, can you believe it?

Elsa, I usually try to convince myself that I hate you. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes... But I know I don't hate you, deep inside. It's not your fault that you had to die. It's not your fault that I loved you. Perhaphs it's no one's fault, but I can't help but to look for someone to blame. Most of the times it's me. I don't hate you, Elsa. But I do hate myself, because...

Because I want to know, Elsa, am I entitled to happiness? Do I have the right to keep living, to wish for something better, to long for a happy life without your shadow in it? Am I allowed to find love again, am I allowed to want to find love again, a love so big that it will heal me form yours? I know how to pretend to be happy and to love and to be made of something solid, and I wish that someday all this pretending will actually turn into true. But I'm stuck in the middle of wanting happiness and feeling guilty for wanting it, in the middle of wanting to forget and wanting to remember, in the middle of needing, yes, needing to remember, but being forced by time to forget... Am I entitled to happiness?

I'm trying my best.

I had to run away, I couldn't stand it at Burgess. I'm trying my best to live a normal life. I owe it to you, and to all of those who love me in spite of everthing I have become... And I couldn't stand it there, where I looked at every corner and my heart said "here she used to exist, here she used to be someone, to laugh... she breathed this air, she walked this streets... here she used to answer to a name, here she could have done so much, so much more... here you both were happy."

And I can't remember you... but I can remember this... this feeling, this warm feeling inside me that forced a smile into my lips. I can remember how you made me mean something, how you completed me. I can remember how it felt to love so blindly and so uncarefully... I can remember all that you made me feel because I can't feel it anymore and I miss it. And it kind of feels as if this was remembering you.

Perhaphs it is, don't you think, Elsa? Perhaphs the memories of my feelings for you are the only thing that's actually worth remembering, because you had your flaws and I had mine, but our love was so flawless, so pure.

Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, Elsa... I wish you could answer. I wish you could wake up for at least two minutes, for me to tell you that I love you, and for you to order me to be happy because I know I would obey.

It's just... it's so unfair. Did I ever got to tell you that I had actually pictured a life next to you? I didn't have any plans, but one: you. You were the only thing I was sure I wanted in my future, and I have everything else but it doesn't make any sense. What did we ever did wrong? Why did this happened to us? To you?

Elsa, you were the most amazing person I've ever met. No doubt. You didn't deserve to die so young, you just didn't. We were just getting started... And it was so little the time I got to spend with you, just a blink. And it has never made any sense that you are gone, and I miss you so so much. You can't be gone... but you are, nothing about you stopped death from taking you in such a horrible way. And I miss everything that you were and everthing that you made me be, and you and me, you and me, you and me, both of us are so gone, so gone forever. And I'll spend forever wondering what could have been of us, may be we could have been happy. Oh, we could have been so happy... And it was so little... it was not long enough and it was not strong enough, but it was just enough to last through time and to sill be a part of me...

Time has had a funny way of healing me. It has turned you into a scar that sometimes is open. But I won't stop loving you, I just won't, I won't... is this even love? Is it, this thing that I have for you? This is not how I remember love. Whatever it is, it has made me to keep on wishing for all this years that this is all a dream, just a nightmare that I will be able to wake up from. I need you to wake me up.

I still can't believe you are gone.

I guess I'm writting this to say goodbye, Elsa. I need to give a try, to put more effort... So goodbye, goodbye to you, and to the old, fool Jack. This time I will try to transform you into something that's not as heavy, something that I can carry around with me without it stopping me from moving forward. You and I both deserve it, you deserve to be so much more than a burden, and I deserve to live without one.

Yes, I'm writting this to say goodbye, because I never got to say it. I'll put you inside my box, and inside the corner of my mind where you belong, and I'll try really hard for both of them to remain closed. I'm setting us free. Goodbye, Elsa, untill we shall meet again.

I know that I'm nothing but the wreckage of who you loved, Elsa, but I will always, always love you. I promise I will always love you so much that, wherever you may be now, you will feel like you are still here with me.

Jack.