Dear Jacob

Letter 24

Dear Jacob,
I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. But it's all going wrong. I'm failing school. Robin hates me. Ruth hates me. I've pushed them away because I am some sort of self-indulging ass who only cares about themselves.
I'm dying. Inside and out. Why should I pretend to live a life that is eventually going to end? What's the point in pretending to enjoy the meagre years we are given on this planet? If I die, the world won't stop turning. Stars die every day, and people don't care. They just point at them, and romanticise them. Why should I be alone, when I could be with you?
Because it was all my fault. I should have remembered you were coming home from the church meeting early that day. I should have remembered not to kiss Ruth. I should have remembered all the times you got angry over the thought of people being unfaithful. I should have remembered to be a better human. That wouldn't have taken much effort.
But I didn't. I forgot. I have no one to blame that on. I should have explained right away to you my situation, rather than staring dumbstruck as you demanded what was going on. I should have stopped you grabbing Ruth and pushing her over. I should have stopped you grabbing me, scratching marks into my arms that I replicate late at night. I should have made you wait instead of rushing after you. I should have seen the van.
I should have done many things. One of them being stepping under the van for you. At least your Heaven shines with another angel. One with blue eyes, quick to change from happiness to confusion to an ocean in a thunderstorm. A soul to change from white to black when you saw me kissing another. But I guess I will never seem them again.
I'm sorry Jacob. That still means nothing, I know. But I mean it. I'm sorry. And nothing will ever end that.
Love, Emma