Their conversations

/, Literature, Blesok no. 99/Their conversations

Their conversations

Letters
Relationships
Illusions
Lies
Realizations
Friendships
Love:
Separations
Pain
Guilt

I don’t know how to begin this…a lot has happened since you passed away. I know it’s moronic to write you an e-mail. I don’t even know what happens with the e-mails to people that don’t exist anymore, does someone cancel them, and who would cancel yours…i don’t know…he told me it would be helpful to talk to you somehow…to say good bye to you in some way, to tell you what I think, how I feel…it is immensely idiotic, I know, don’t laugh at me, because if you can read e-mails, it makes sense that you can also see exactly what’s going on with us…still, that’s not why I’m writing to you.
I’m writing to you to make a confession. do you remember those three days, our only trip together, the trip that changed the lives of many people. I fell in love with you on that trip. my entire being is aches that it wasn’t more than three days. that I didn’t have more time with you. there were so many things I wanted to tell you…to know about you…you are the only person I truly loved. the only person I didn’t want to make miserable in some way. the only one that truly meant something to me in this life. I would never forgive myself for doing completely the opposite…you, I managed to destroy you the most… when I told Robin before you passed away, she said karma…it was karma that people found out…karma…because I was scheming, now someone did the same to me…she was right…I told her via e-mail…I could barely make myself write to her…she hasn’t answered yet…i don’t even expect her to…he told me I have to ask everybody I think I’ve done wrong for forgiveness…I don’t deserve their mercy…karma…I wrote to her: it’s karma that the only person I loved died, I killed the only thing I never wanted to hurt…
the night I came over I wanted to confess everything to you, instead of what I actually did…I couldn’t talk…I couldn’t tell you anything…my body was shaking from pain, from exhaustion, from the pills I took…I knew I was going to make things even more complicated, that I would hurt you even more. when I saw your eyes, so scared and full of light, the only good eyes I’ve ever seen, I knew I’d hurt you forever if you knew I took two bottles of pills because of you…that’s why I ran away. they shouldn’t have saved me…I should have died with you on the street…why didn’t it hit me? he says I mustn’t think like this. that I have to realize every life is worth living. what a bunch of crap, huh? god, how stupid this is…he is there to cure my madness, and the makes me talk to dead people over e-mail. will you answer me? will you write me an e-mail? will I ever find out if you loved me? is all of this worth it? should I kill myself anyway? tell me when you write to me from there somewhere, why, why shouldn’t I kill myself? why? maybe to (so I could) feel this pain…maybe I should feel this pain redeem myself for hurting you…
…I hope no one has your password. he is definitely crazier than me. isn’t he?
in case you really are reading this from somewhere…I hope you don’t hate me…

I love you. forever,
M.

AuthorFrosina Stojkovska
2018-08-21T17:22:36+00:00 November 9th, 2014|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 99|0 Comments