My Dear Helen,
I am acutely aware of the intricate web of uncertainties that envelop your every moment. It is not lost on me that this perpetual state of ambiguity enhances your effectiveness within the confines of the Institute. Yet, in my absence, I feel compelled to offer you more than just a nod to your capabilities; I wish to extend a semblance of clarity.
Rest assured, Helen, you are more than equal to the task of keeping the delicate balance within these hallowed walls while I am away. I trust in your meticulous nature, your unyielding resolve, and your astute mind to keep everything on track. There is no doubt in my mind that when the time is right, I shall return to continue our shared journey through the arcane corridors of knowledge.
I sense a shadow of doubt that has taken residence within you—a belief that my intentions are veiled, that I am engaged in some elaborate game. Allow me to dispel this notion unequivocally. There is no game, no pretense. What I desire, Helen, is not a pawn but a partner, an equal in the grand symphony playing out as the world undergoes its inevitable metamorphosis.
You might recall that question I posed to you once. It was not a test; it was an acknowledgment of your remarkable intellect, your unwavering resolve, and the intense curiosity that fuels your every pursuit. These qualities, my dear, make you not just an asset but a force to be reckoned with.
There's something uniquely exhilarating about your ability to keep the most arbitrary of things from me and weave the threads of the unknown into our interactions. Your habit of saying silly one-liners for your entertainment alone, while maintaining a facade of indifference, is nothing short of delightful. It excites me to no end, Helen, knowing that amidst the dance of truths and half-truths, you are a riddle with no one right answer. I find myself drawn to your character, and the prospect of spending an eternity in your company is one that fills me with anticipation.
In my visions of the days that unfold at the culmination of all things, I see you standing with me. It is not a fleeting image but a certainty, a testament to the role you play. With this understanding, I extend to you an invitation. Keep it close, and let it be a constant reminder.
Always Watching,
Elias
"Do you really think that you are more than just a stepping stone to him? Do whatever you want, whether it's for the eye or for the lonely, but don't delude yourself. I thought you were supposed to pursue the truth. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone." Impressive. I have managed to draw quite the speech out of Peter Lukas of all people.
"And why do you suddenly care? You just want to use me too, everyone does. At least I like it here."
"Your talents are wasted away in this place. You could still–"
"I said no! I won't have any part of the Lonely."
"Your loss. I thought you were better than this." What are you, my mother? Shut up, you old kook.
"Don't you have somewhere to be? Someone to vanish? A Martin to brainwash." No. I'm afraid it's going to be your loss, Peter. I want him and everyone else to suffer. I want it to go our way, Jonah. I want them to know what it's like to always be just out of reach.
Our conversation is done, and we both know it. He slips away into the emptiness, nothing new. I am alone in Elias' empty office, and I crumple to the ground. My knees are sure to bruise, but the pain is more of a dull sensation. My fingers search my pockets, turning them out, and my vision fogs with an oncoming slaught of torment. The tears prick and sting at my eyes, and I finally pinch the paper between my fingers: the letter. I pull it out to read over it, but my vision is too impaired. It doesn't matter. I know the words all too well now anyways. I rub the tears away, and the hairs of my cardigan are abrasive on my skin. Everything about me feels raw and torn at this moment, but I'm not alone, I'm not. He said it right here. Maybe I'm not important to him, but he's important to me, and he knows it. I think maybe I could be happy with this. He asked me if I would stand beside him. He said he's watching.
Elias, please come back. Peter Lukas is being mean to me, and I miss you. I don't want to be alone. I want to do this together, please. I know you said I could, but what if I fuck everything up? You have been trying to make this happen for so long, and what if I ruin it in such a short period of time? I am trying, I swear. I just am so terrified that I won't be good enough, and that I am only to you what I can do for you. I have to be useful to you. I can't lose you. I can't lose!
A part of me wonders at what I will do when he returns. I wonder what will happen to us. What will become of us? What comes next, Elias? An intermission before the final act?
I become even more certain that I am in love with you, and it is with this awful recognition that I find myself so incredibly distressed with you. How dare you do this to me? How can you play me like a song and write to me in this way when we are not anything at all? I mourn the fact that I am enamored with you. I hate that I think of you when I wake and before I go to sleep. I hate your stupid face you wear and the deep suffocating colors of your eyes. You draw me in like a moth, and it kills me.
I don't want to be alone, and you won't leave so you say.
It isn't the same, but I will take what I can get. I will do so with my tongue tucked behind my teeth against the roof of my mouth.
I find myself torn at the idea of you. I want to be known so truly and well and completely by you. I would be consumed if I could as long as you never let me go. It occurs to me that I might not actually be correct in any of this. Perhaps, in escaping the grasp of the Lonely, I talked myself into infatuation with the closest breathing and open monstrosity. As much as I want you to know me, I am terrified that the moment you know me completely, I will no longer be something capable of entertaining you; you will stop watching me. I cannot stand the idea of that.
I used to tell myself I was only doing this because my mother hates you, because I don't want a world steeped in Lonely. I don't want things to go the way she wants them to, but some other way that is mildly inconvenient to her while she cannot reach me.
I think it is so many things that all come together in one horrible, awful image, and for some reason there you are in it.
Whatever we are, whether it is reciprocated or not, I want this to happen with you. You have given me a chance at autonomy when you did not need to, and despite the fact that you tell me that I am your equal, I cannot help but feel it is another well-positioned piece. I just–it is possible to half-believe things. It is possible to believe multiple contradicting things at once.
Our connection, fragile yet enduring, teeters on the brink of uncertainty. With each word I offer, I fear I may unravel the delicate balance we've maintained so far. But in this moment of vulnerability, I am compelled to lay bare some truths to peel back the layers of myself and expose the raw essence of my being.
Whatever thing we have. I hope this does not end us. I suppose I shall let these truths of me come to the surface that I have kept buried for so long:
The things about me that are secret, that you struggle to know about me (you mentioned once having trouble seeing me at times) are because I keep them from you. It is not a matter of just you, however. If you will remember that after Peter became aware of my presence, my mother became a much more prominent issue, that is what I mean. The lies I tell-–that which I hide-–keeps me from sight. It is not about always being out of your sight, but from everyone else's.
My mother taught me how to hide from others, from sight, it is a talent I developed growing up in the Lonely. At first, it was about being more powerful for her, but then it was about being strong enough to escape her influence. She less so taught, but shaped the ability in me. Like an unruly plant however, I grew the direction I wanted.
I like to think that this is the only place in the world I belong, alongside you. I thought about killing myself before you reached out to me. In fact, I can't help but feel I have found my rightful place in the world. Your steadfast presence has anchored me in a sea of uncertainty, offering me refuge from the storm that rages within. And though the prospect of losing you fills me with a bone-deep dread, I am willing to risk it all for the chance to be seen, to be known, to be loved.
I once considered the idea of going to other fears, but at the end of the day, I was so tired. I thought what better way to go than to deprive my mother of myself. My whole life was about her, but now it is more about you, and also me. That is something that I find quite hard to swallow.
A part of me thinks that maybe if I had found you in life sooner. Ah, I wonder what that would have been like. The things we could have done. The pain I could have avoided. Another wonders if you would even have wanted me. If I had found you sooner, I would have been less the way I am now. I wouldn't have as much as the whimsical intrigue I suppose I have. I would have been easier to know. Maybe there is a reason for all the suffering. I wouldn't have the future any differently though. Elias, Jonah, whatever you would have me call you, I–
I am scared, but not of you. I am scared of losing you. I am scared of being alone. It is such a suffocating feeling.
I will let you in, but please, if you are going to take advantage of me, let me at least imagine that we are in love. Let me at least have this one pretty thing. I always liked reading stories because they took me to a better place. I don't need to read those books anymore if you do that for me. I know it is a silly thing to say, but I think I need you, Jonah.
Also, Peter Lukas is annoying. Basira is annoying. I want company, but I want good company, and I want yours. So hurry back before I implode please. I do not know how many more outings with Peter Lukas I can stand. I do not know how much more of Martin's pining I can survive. It is like hearing my inner ramblings about you, except, I feel he is a bit more pathetic if I am being honest. That is a bit rude, but it's a simple observation.
You are the most important person in the world to me.
I am not to you.
That's okay. I can live with that for now. I can live with this for now. Just as long as you keep watching.
