Letters to a Stranger [discontinued]

Letter 9: Broken Beyond Repair

a/n: look at the pretty cover @sweetmidnightmade for us omgg its so great *cries* -Molly

October 31, 2013

Dear Stranger,

The apartment where I live was quiet. Mostly everyone was out and people like myself just stayed in their home and kept to themselves.

I haven't got much to write about. It just feels... normal to write.

These letters expresses my feelings now when I can't scream or punch something or cut. It feels better to let it all out; to recount the happy things and tell the bad things on a piece of paper.

But here goes nothing:

Paul called yesterday.

It seems like Paul is the main character now but I promise he isn't. It's just that Paul and I help each other. Our bond is a covalent bond. We have a mutualism relationship.

He's fine now but yesterday, he was crying hard. He was like a toddler who lost his mom in the mall.

But he wasn't crying over his father; or the money; or college. He was crying over a girl.

"Paul, calm down! Please!" I said, trying to comfort him over the phone.

He stopped crying a bit and I felt like a mother. I wanted to hold him tight and tell him all was going to be fine. But I couldn't because I didn't know.

"She used to be so beautiful. I don't know why she was whisked away from me. Stupid... fucking stupid!" Paul said angrily. "This is all my fault!"

His voice wavered at the end and I could hear something break. It sounded like a plate being shattered.

Then everything was silent for a few seconds except his breathing coming out from the phone.

"Do you remember that day we met?" He suddenly asked.

"I do." I said, suddenly understanding where our conversation was heading.

"The girl... the girl I was crying over? She was my girlfriend," Paul drew a shaky breath. "Today was her birthday. It's the first time in five years I won't celebrate it with her: her Halloween birthday.

"She saved me, you know? We met in our third year of high school and I was such a fucking mess! My parents were divorced, my sister was dead and my friend sucked. I thought there was no hope for me."

He sucked a breath. "Then she came along." His tone changed. It wasn't angry or sad anymore. It was the the kind of voice you'd hear from someone when they're recounting happy memories to you. That was his voice. And it made me smile.

"I hadn't laughed in a few weeks and I was angry that she bumped into me. Then she told me something and it just caught me off guard. I laughed and I think everyone was shocked. They knew I was... not happy.

"Then everything changed. She became my best friend and she taught me how to see the world in brighter colours. She taught me how to deal with the shadows and smile a bit more. She taught me how to have fun. How to love again," he sniffled. "And I didn't know how she did it. How she kept up with all my bad days."

"Paul..." I didn't know how to react. I didn't know how to comfort someone like that.

I had never dated anyone with that much love. I only dated three times and they were just puppy love. Infatuation. Never love.

And there was Paul who seemed absolutely heart broken ever his deceased girlfriend. I could tell he really loves her. And I could tell that she loved him equally.

"It's okay. I'm stupid crying over-"

"No it isn't! Paul, I can tell that you love her! She helped you get over your sad days and now it seems like you're slipping back to-"

"Because I am! Eversince she left, I was a mess! I hardly eat, I hardly sleep, I'm like a fucking zombie!" He said. "I love her! I can't get over that, okay? She helped me so much and I was doing so well. I was smiling and making jokes. I had friends who were great and she was there beside me.

"Look, you haven't found someone like that and if you find someone like what I described to you, you never let that person go."

He hung up.

So much for comforting, Paul. I thought, looking at his apartment.

I stood up and took my coat from the hanger and left my apartment to visit Paul.

When I arrived at his door, I knocked gently on it. I hoped he was okay.

"Go away. I know it's you."

I knocked again.

"Leave me alone."

"Paul, come on. Just open the door, okay? I just want to help you."

There was silence and I thought I could stood there for twenty minutes. Then he opened the door.

I hugged him even if I was considerably shorter than him. I didn't care that he was surprised. I just knew that it would help. The human touch always helped.

"Paul, I know you're upset but I don't think you should do this to yourself. She wouldn't have wanted that." I said. "You still have friends. I'm one of them and I can't bear to see you like this."

We didn't say anything. We were just there. I held him while he controlled his breathing.

When he was okay, we talked about his girlfriend and life until it was three in the morning.

When I was alone again, I realised that I fixing people was hard. Sometimes, there are parts you just can't put back together anymore.

That's how I feel. That's how Paul feel. That's how people like us were feeling.

And it felt like nothing was the same ever again.

yours truly,
stranger

written by: Alice Amsor

a/n: the emotional pain here tho. I feel so bad for Paul.

Next letter won't feature Paul anymore and he'll be gone for quite some time :/