I made my parents leave. I do need their comfort, but with comfort comes pity and the reminder that Max is dead. They were reluctant to leave, at first. But, I convinced them by promising that I wouldn't kill myself. I know that's what they think about me, now. Poor little Elizabeth Whitmore is going to kill herself because her husband died. They don't know that their pity adds to the never ending pain caused by his death. More pain means more time to overcome everything. Max is all I need, and all I can't have.
Fuck this one letter per day rule that he made. I'm going to read one more, now. I need to feel closer to him to keep myself sane. Visiting him in the cemetery is not an option, because I'm not strong enough for that. I haven't been there after his funeral. I'm not ready. I wasn't even able to speak properly in his funeral before I choked up on my words, and left the place in tears.
Leaving the funeral was disrespectful, but I couldn't bear to look at the closed casket. Inside was what they called a dead body. Just, a dead body. The person who I've loved since childhood is now called a dead body. It was disrespectful to my husband, running away from his funeral. But, I couldn't stay there with everyone's pitiful stares reminding me that my man was nomore.
I couldn't bear to look at the paparazzi who suddenly claimed to love him, when all they did was insult him after Dana died. All they need is hot news for their channel or paper's popularity to go up. They don't care about the feelings of the people who they talk ill, and spread gossips about. They have no concern for how it affects someone's mental condition. They are one of the reasons he died. They made assumptions about why he was drinking uncontrollably. They made him angry at the world, at himself, and finally caused his death.
I was scared that I would blurt all those lines out if I saw them, any longer. If I did, they would have made another news out of it, claiming that I have lost my sanity, grieving Max's death. But, nothing can stop them. They started off a new story that he was cheating on me and I broke his heart when I found out. Then, he began drinking as I apparently demanded divorce. Not able to bear the pain for more than a year, Max Reynolds killed himself. At his funeral, I saw the woman with who he was cheating on me, and ran from the funeral.
Bullsh*t.
The next letter reads:
Hey, Elizabeth.
You told me today that you like Jake. I don't know why, but it makes me really angry. We're both fifteen, and it's natural at this age to be attracted to the opposite gender. But, I don't like to think that you like Jake. I shouldn't use such foul language, but he's an as$h0le. I don't even know him, but I'm sure that he's no good.
I've never hated anyone as much as I hate him. Coming to think of it, he cut a red ribbon with scissors and inaugurated my list of the people I hate. I have no idea how someone as pretty as you can like such a prick. You're not the type of girl that's infatuated with bad boys. It makes me so angry that you keep talking about him to me.
When I got mad at you for it one day, you asked me what was wrong. Well, guess what's wrong? I'm jealous of that guy. I'm scared that he would take you away from me. I'm scared that he will take away my best friend. All kids of our age in a relationship stop hanging out with friends. I don't want that to happen to us.
-Maxwell Reynolds
My lips curve up as I get an insight into my fourteen year old Max. I never really understood why he hated Jake, those days. I don't think he understood why, either. He always ran away from me when Jake was around. He used to get angry whenever I spoke of him, but pretended he wasn't because he didn't want to hurt me. He put up with me whenever I rambled about how I wanted Jake to notice nerdy me. He supported me through everything in life, except now, he just went away like I would be able to survive without him, let alone live.
It seems like he was out of his mind when he wrote the letter. I don't even remember Jake. If Max hadn't written it down, I'm quite sure I wouldn't remember his name either. All I remember is that there was a boy in my life before I realized my love for Max.
The impression of his pen on the paper is angry, and we all know how anger influences human brain. It makes you do stupid things. Without thinking further, I begin reading the letter that's stapled to this one.
Love, I don't know what to say about this piece of crap (or cuteness like you'd like it to be called). You should probably laughing, right now. I'll be happy if you are because you came to these letters for emotional support, and that my words could calm you down when I'm not near you.
I have no idea what the hell I was thinking while writing this letter, because damn I sound like drunkard, repeating the same sentence, over and over again. That moment, I never imagined that one day, I'll have you in my arms and proudly tell everyone that the wonderful author is my girlfriend. This life I'm living with you is everything I didn't know I needed, that I craved for ever since a young age.
Many ask if I'm not bored of you. I just maintain my composure and say no. I'll never get bored of you, baby. I can see ourselves as septuagenarians, holding each other's wrinkled hands, talking about the old times. Your eyes would be still as captivating as they are now, and I would be getting lost in their beauty. There would be crinkles in the corners of your eyes, showing the world that I've made you laugh. We would tell our children our love story, and our children would tease us about how in love we are, even after decades of marriage. I love you.
You're a beautiful person. Your beauty (not just physical) is just like the universe, you can't be completely discovered. I want to spend my life knowing every inch of you, your beautiful personality. If rebirth is true like some good old people say, I'd be born again and be your man even, again. I want to be able to solve as much as I can, the puzzle Elizabeth Whitmore.
With endless love,
Your Max.
A/N:
Who's watching the cricket match, now? Not many of this story's reader, I guess. Any team can win, in this situation. I hope INDIA wins, though.
I feel bad for the one direction fans, as their favorite Zayn Malik has left the band. You guys are great fans, supporting him through all his problems.
Have a great day, y'all.
Oh, and don't forget to VOTE, and COMMENT. I love having your feedbacks.
-Awkward Penguin. :)
