Porco,
To count the days in which I have pondered what our lives would have been if you hadn't died would be an endless endeavour. A task as vast and impossible as counting the stars. A feat that you once claimed to have accomplished when we were younger. So, according to you, there are precisely 574 stars orbiting our sky.
574 stars.
Remember how I would tease you relentlessly after we had confirmed from an adult that there were much more than simply 574 stars?
Such little things matter so much back then.
Perhaps they still do?
Children will always be curious about things they don't know and those small things will be important to them. And if something is important to one person then you can know for certain that it matters.
When children ask me about the stars I'll have no choice but to tell them that there are precisely 574. Not because it is the truth but because it was something that once mattered to you. And because it matters to you then it's something that will matter to me. Even if you can no longer recall that specific thing.
574 is such a small number in comparison to what someone else might say. There are so many more than 574 people in this world. So many people we might never get to meet and so many people that will never know our names.
But 574 is also such a large number in comparison to other things. For example, 574 is such a large thing in comparison to 13.
13 years to live.
13 years to bear a burden much too vast for any one person to carry. 13 years before you would become nothing but a memory. 13 years to maybe change the world.
13 years to love.
Many would think that 13 is a rather short amount of time to fall in love with another, but it sounds almost perfect to me. More than I could ever think to ask for. More than I ever deserve.
574 is but a dream. A dream written among the stars and the thousands of skies I've seen.
Do you know I see your smile among the stars and I hear your laughter in the ripple of water? It's comforting in a strange sort of way; like the way lukewarm water feels against burning hot skin; the same way standing barefoot in the snow is. Sometimes, when I stand in the snow, I think about the way it burned my hands. It's strange, to think something so cold can burn hotter than any flame.
Frostbite, or perhaps frost burn, was such a foreign concept to children whose purpose was to kill. Such a strange idea to someone who was meant to burn hotter than anyone else.
Did you ever mind the way my hand burned against your own?
Does the sensation remind you of frostbitten hands on a winter's day?
Sometimes I forget that you've left and turn to where I think you might be standing. Or sometimes, I hear something and make a mental note not to repeat it to you. It hurts to remember that you're gone. I've gotten better though. It's been many years since I was a little girl with frostbitten hands.
It's been many years since you've been a gungho and careless boy. It seemed as if you changed from a bright eyed boy to a steel eyed soldier in the blink of an eye. It took me a little longer to mature though.
Perhaps that was why you liked me so much. Because I reminded you of a version of yourself you so desperately wished to return to.
I know that there are times I've been desperately lost, searching for a version of myself that's been lost to time. Moments when I wish for a feeling with a semblance of the past because it's the only part of me that I currently recognize.
You used to always scold me when I got too philosophical. Do you remember how me and the others would tease back that it was only because you didn't understand? I do. In truth, I think you've always understood much better than anyone else. It's never good to ponder on the philosophical because it'll never truly push you forward in life. Afterall, wisdom can only be gained by looking back on the past.
You, my good sir, have always charged head first into matters of the heart. Head first, because what better way to love than with everything that you are?
I love that about you.
I wish I could have been as bold and brazen as you. Contrary to popular belief, bravery has never been my thing.
Your love was bright and quite intimidating. Something I often find myself longing for on nights when I am alone and staring up at the brilliant night sky.
Have I ever told you that you're brilliant?
I can't recall if those words have ever graced my lips in this life. For certain, I can recall the bright embarrassment that would have wafted off the two of us, but my memories are now far too hazy for any proper recollection. Everything I am will likely become nothing but what I was, and I'll once again be searching for this part of me that I've lost.
Brilliance is such a strange thing to come by these days.
We suffer an epidemic of ordinariness and lack of originality, but you have always unapologetically been yourself and it's brilliant. I hope if those words have never graced my lips that they reach you now. It's nothing short of a crime for you to have died without ever having known how highly I've placed you among everyone else.
Among the hundreds or millions of things in this world, I find myself wishing for just another moment with you. It makes me such a selfish and foolish person; wishing for something I can never have, wishing for something I don't deserve.
Perhaps in another life I'll remember you and your bright smile. My eyes will meet with your own and my heart will stop for the fraction of a second. You'll smile to yourself and I'll turn away embarrassed. It won't be love at first sight, because you'll be much too cool for that, but I'll catch your interest and everything will just be right.
Am I being too brash?
Reiner's told me that I can be a little too forward. I suppose I've learned that from you. No point in hiding what you want. No point in being embarrassed of your feelings. They're only natural, after all.
You've always hated Reiner for some unknown reason. Well, it's not unknown. It's actually pretty easy to figure out once you really think about it. Really, I don't think I ever wanted to figure it out. It just made things easier to pretend not to know and understand.
It's so easy to not see what's happening.
A coward's way out, really.
It's so easy to turn the other way and keep your attention elsewhere and there are so many things that I turned away from.
Emotions have never been all too easy for me, and I've never been all too good at feelings. Though, in my defence, you've never been the best either.
Perhaps that's all we were ever meant to be. Children who are only ever almost just there. Just not enough.
But, in the end, I think you turned out pretty well.
You learned how to love. You knew what love was and you loved me. Bravely, boldly, and brazenly you loved. I never knew how much I would miss that kind of love until it was no longer there.
I suppose all the best things have to disappear before one can realise how brilliant they actually are.
I'm sorry that I never got to love you back the same way you loved me.
Sincerely and truthfully, (Y/n) (L/n)
YOU ARE READING
Allies and Enemies (AoT Reader Insert)
Romance"We were made to live." Second installment of "A Tenth Shifter; The Crystal Titan" Series.
