The Last Love Letter
Thank you for responding. I'd hoped for a different message, but I understand your too little, too late. I'm not going to ask for forgiveness again, I understood that as well. I apologized for things that weren't my fault, and never did anything to resolve the things that actually were.
So many thoughts ran through my mind upon reading your letter. I realized that I lied to you, I didn't know that I was lying at the time, but I don't really want to let go and move on. I was both euphoric to feel in my bones that you still love me and devastated to comprehend that you don't want me anymore. It was very difficult to read through all of that, because every word you wrote spoke of love and in the same breath carried the weight of goodbye with it.
Nevertheless, I thank you for having the courage to say the things I never had the courage to say, and I thank you for showing me your heart and your mind. The sight of your naked soul breaks my heart, tears me to shreds, as does the knowledge that I may have lost all chance with you. Too little, too late, and I just have myself to blame for it.
I lament all the years I was a coward, all the times I wanted you and didn't tell you, all the pain I caused us both. I lament to have needed you so much and for so long that I'll now die a slow death if I can't have you. You don't want to die from me, yet you're killing me with your goodbye. I imagine you'll be angry when you read this, but what the point in keeping this from you anymore.
I wish things could have been different. Sadly, things just aren't, we make them, as I made my destiny and now have to live through it, needful, sorrowful, repentant and alone. I don't suppose you'll excuse this bout of self-pity, but I prefer to sound pathetic rather than prideful, I'm really beyond shameless at this point.
Is it pathetic to beg you not to let me go? Is it pathetic to scream at you not to be a fool, because you also love me? Is it pathetic to want you and need you and love you enough to lose all pride and shame in an attempt to win you back? Your heart is mine, I have to try to change you mind. I have to, even if it's a moot and ridiculous point because you let me go years ago. I have to try because I don't want to make the same mistake again. It was all too little and too late before, this time at least I need to try.
I'm quite hopeless that this letter will make any difference, that this story will have a different ending, but I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try one last time. I'm shameless when it comes to you. You were so right, I also lived half a life, and I will continue to live half of one until I am with you. You waited very long to hear from me, and I will wait that time and longer for you. Please don't die from me, die with me.
I love you, I always have.
Now for the important question
Is it not a love story if it doesn't have a happy ending? Does it make the love any less felt, any less real if it's unrequited? Think about it. The love is there, just not at the right times, or at the right places, but it's painfully, mindblowingly there --unrequited, unrecognized, rejected. It's still love, the protagonists feel it and die from it all the same. And who knows if there will be a fifth letter that never gets published?
You probably noticed that our two letter writers are nameless, genderless. I wonder if that made anyone wonder? Love is genderless, senseless, unexplainable, except by a very unromantic chemical reaction that I don't care to get into.
Not satisfied with the finale? Tough luck. Or maybe it's just your luck, because now you can complete the series in your mind with a different ending if you so wish. Who says you can't write a fifth love letter in your heart?
© 2009 Elena.