If I Ever See You Again

Dear Kara,

I don’t usually speak many platitudes so as cliché as this sounds I want you to know that every word is true. You are the light of my life and while writing this letter I’m ruminating on the wonders of your smiling face. I’m thinking about how your eyes light up and how there are two little dimples on either side of your mouth. I’m thinking about how with one look at your smile, I, myself, no matter the situation can’t help but smiling also. However, I’m also thinking about when you cry, an over flow of tears tainting your beautiful face and angering me to no end, especially when its because of me. I don’t ever want to see you cry, Kara, but this time I can’t stop the tears. I can’t be that august knight in shining armor, the one you see me as in your dreams. This time I can’t be your hero when I know I’m going to be the cause of your pain and I won’t be there to stop it. There is no easy way to say this to you so I’m writing this letter. Just hear me out, Kara, and no matter how upset you get please read ‘till the end.

 Remember, a few months ago when we went to the beach. You wore your white sundress and your favorite sun hat. It was really windy that day and at one point we spent nearly half an hour chasing after your sun hat when it flew off your head. You were amazing that day, twirling in the sand and splashing around in the ocean. Your hair whipped around your head and the air was filled with your musical laughter. That day, I was sure I was watching an angel. I held you that day. For what seemed like hours we just stood there at the shore holding each other as waves splashed against our legs. Then I lowered my lips to your ear and whispered. Do remember what I said, Kara? I told you that I loved you to which you whispered back that you love me too. I told you that I’d give you the world if I could, but most of all I wanted you to be happy. No matter what happens to me I wanted you to be elated, joyful and just happy with life and the world. In knowing that I hope you understand why I wrote this letter. You know I can never find the right words to say and its even worse with you cause I never can say the right thing to you. After three years together you still make as nervous as the first time I saw you. At least through this letter I can say the right thing or try to.

 I guess there is no other way so I’ll come out and say it. Kara, I’m dying and I have been for a while. In fact, if you’re reading this letter I might already be dead. I know that you knew there was something wrong with me, you were always so perceptive of me, but there was this tacit understanding that neither of us would say anything about it. I was too scared to tell you and you were too frightened to ask. I know this is the coward way of doing it, but the cancer is spreading and I waited too long to tell you so this is the best way. I’m sorry, for everything Kara. God knows I was never the perfect boyfriend, but I tried my best. I loved you with all my heart Kara. If your reading this right now and I’m gone, I need you to understand why this was so hard for me.

 When we first met, do you remember that day? For me it’s the most precious of my memories, thinking about it is like remembering yesterday.  I’d just moved to the states after the large fire that burned down my home. I’d been afraid because first of all, my accent was very prominent, way more than I’d liked compared to everyone else. Second of all I’d lived in a small town near the woods and was homeschooled before the wild fire so I’d never been to real high school before. Also, everything in America was so different from Ireland, especially moving to a place like New York. Every thing had been big and shiny, the surroundings made my life back in Ireland seem irrelevant and beside the point. What really commanded attention was the new life that I’d receive in the big apple and all the opportunities. However, at the time when I first moved I didn’t think about this much.

 I’d always been a safe person, because of my mom’s influence from when I was younger. I got cancer when I was 8 years old and until recently it had been quiescent. According to my doctor this dormant period for my cancer could last for 3 months, 3 years or just any amount of time, but he told me not to get my hopes up because it could come back. For my mom this was a sign that she had to protect me and keep me safe so that it would never come back. For me I thought I could finally be kid again and do ‘kid stuff’, but I was wrong. Mom was a little too over protective and as a result I slipped into a boring lifestyle of doing nothing. I can’t totally blame mom because it was my fault too, I, like my mom, was also scared of getting my cancer back. I couldn’t let these feelings run though and eventually I learned to quell them inside.