Thank You

Letter

I watch as the last remains of snow melt under my nose. The memories of the night when they first started falling are all that is left on my mind. For a week now, I have sat by my window, watching the white coating I wondered at not too long ago slowly disappear. I have been watching the magic fade away for days, although I would have to admit that even the snow has lost its appeal and its magic ever since I stepped inside this house a week ago. Everything good stooped when I let her go.

I got off the car, and even though what I wanted most was to turn back to look at her one more time, I didn't. I walked straight to the front door, not without noticing the sound of the car rolling off. My mother had been waiting in the living room since I had left. She had decided to sit in the sofa to make sure I would come home safe when she had heard the front door open after the Christmas dinner that was nothing but gloomy, same as every other year. So, when I walked inside the house, I was met with my mom instantly. We exchanged long stares without moving an inch. I knew I could not hide the fact that I had just cried for too long just minutes ago, and to avoid further discussion, I fled and locked myself in my room. I heard my mom ask about my night and about why I was only coming back now, but since no replies were coming rom the other side of the door, she gave up and left to sleep. But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't do anything.

My eyes were dry again, and no tears were any close to come out of them again. I couldn't do anything by lie on my bed, eyes open, thoughts blank and heart aching. Four hours, I was awake, mind empty, and as the sun started rising, the images of the night started playing again in my brain. All the memories came flooding back in. All of them. The good and the bad side of what felt like an enormous dream fought in my head, one dominating the other for a few minutes before giving up to the other again. My mother came checking on me, telling me it was the afternoon already, but she quit just as fast as a few hours earlier. I knew I could escape her until the next day, but then I would have to come out of my room. By the time the sun was setting, only one thing kept on replaying in my mind. Those five words said so secretly yet feeling like a scream at the universe. I love you too, Diana.

As I watch the last of the white disappear through the glass, I still do not know whether I would have liked it better if she hadn't said it back. It only made it harder, knowing we shared this mutual feeling, stronger than any other, but that we had to remain apart. Maybe if she had just smiled and left, maybe then, it would have been easier. A heartbreak, yes, but I would have known not to want to get to her anymore. Every minute now is a fight not to run outside the street to get to her house and try to get her out, to save her. Everything in me only wants to go, but I cannot risk it. I cannot risk putting her life in danger. Not again. Not now.

The only thing holding me from drowning in my worrying is the fact that she swore she would be safe after telling him, but a small promise is far from enough to stop me from being heavily concerned. Every second of my life is dedicated to thinking of her and imagining what could happen to her. The guilt I feel is even worse than what I felt as a twelve-year-old. Or maybe it is just the same, I just cannot remember clearly the feelings I had five years ago. I thought I would remember forever, but a memory is a memory, and at some point, some parts become blurry. It is not forgetting for the images stay in your brain, and you can remember exactly what happened, but details are smoothed out, pushed out of the bier picture. I hope this never happens with the good parts of that night I spent with Cate. I never want to forget exactly how she made me feel. How I still feel.

"Diana ? Can you come down ?"

I had to tell my mom after the day she let me stay locked up. Actually, it is a lie, I didn't have to, but my mind was all scrambled from too many traumatic memories mixing up with the actual great things that happened and from my recent lack of sleep, and when she finally asked about my night, I collapsed in her arms. I did not cry, as I knew I wouldn't, but words kept on coming out of my mouth. It felt as if I had no control on the things I was revealing to her. When my brain started to get less foggy, I made her promise not to talk to me about cate ever again, and to act as if nothing had happened at all that night. I didn't think she would agree, but she just kissed my forehead and nodded. To this day, she still hasn't said a word about everything I laid out on her almost a week ago.

I step away from the window and walk down the stairs to join my mom. It is New Year's Eve, and if this has not been such a happy holiday for the last five years, it could not be worse than Christmas. Every year, we would still cook ourselves somewhat of a more elaborate dinner and end up watching movies until my mom would doze off. I walk over her with cooking and cringe movies in mind and raise a questioning eyebrow at her when I saw they empty kitchen counter. She is leaning against it, the post behind her but a letter still in hand. As soon as she sees me, she clears her throat, visibly uncomfortable.

"Diana," she stops after only saying my name, looking for the right words – making me think of Cate instantly, "I know we agreed on forgetting about Christmas night, and I was fine by it, ignoring you made out with an abused woman twice your age that you'd only met a week before. But... but she sent you letter."

My mouth opens ever so slightly as I find myself suddenly staring at the white envelope in my mother's hands.

"I don't really agree with you seeing this woman, but I can't keep this from you. I just hope you'll make the right choice about this, okay ?"

I don't reply but solely grab the letter she's handing me now. My first instinct is to flip the envelope over to read the sender's name. There it is, written in a neat and intricate writing. Cate Blanchett.

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yes i am actually pulling a carol on you right now.
i thought about not telling the mom about what happened, but then deciding to do so, i wanted to make it clear that she doesn't agree with the idea of her teenage daughter being involved in a relationship with a woman twice her age. the whole reaction is just there to fit the character, i mean she does let her daughter wander around in the middle of the night.