Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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Dear Sora,
I don't know why I'm writing this. I must be silly. We are going to have our own family soon. I can't wait to meet our twins. I'm sure they'll look exactly like us— our best parts. I can't wait to raise them, you know?
I can't wait to marry you.
I can't wait to be your wife.
But something tells me that we won't be able to. It breaks my heart just thinking about it.
I'm sitting in my office as I write this, and it's late now. I am a bit tired, I can't lie. Pregnancy does not help— I'm carrying two life forms inside me (it's as exciting as it is nerve-racking). Outside the windows, the stars are bright. I feel as though they are irritated for some reason. They're glaring at me. I can't fathom what I've done wrong, but something must not be right.
Still, certainty and uncertainty make this world thrilling. Don't you agree? We could wake up tomorrow and discover that zombies loiter on the streets, or we could wake up and find the planet is alive, blooming, all sorts of flowers sprouting across its surface. The possibilities seem endless. And yet, so real.
In my mind, there are only a few things that I can confidently say are certain in this uncertain world: art, and you, and our love.
You probably think me a fool. I've always been so sentimental— writing this letter will set our relationship in stone. Everyone will know that we were together and we were happy.
Oh dear, my hand is shaking. I'm sure you can realize: my handwriting isn't nearly as neat as it usually is. I can't help but laugh. Everything feels surreal, and yet, something doesn't feel right.
There are fluttery sensations in my stomach, but I'm scared. Sora, I'm scared. I can only feel one pair of feet kicking away. I can only feel one of our children. When I called the doctor today, she told me not to worry. That they were probably sleeping, but— I can feel it.
Fuck. Things aren't going to end well, are they? When you read this, I might be gone.
It hurts. I want to continue living by your side, I want to walk this path of life with you, I want to grow old together. Sora, I want you. Only you.
Why must the world be so cruel?
You are my everything. The light in my life. My new beginning. My middle. And now, my end.
Do you know, when we first met—when you came into my office and asked for help—you felt so familiar to me. As you told me your story, it felt less like getting to know you and more as though I was remembering who you are. Every smile, every whisper brought me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place—some other existence.
You asked me if we knew each other.
I think we have. Those dreams we shared— they must have been from a past life. I'm sure of it.
I don't know what else to say. I have a million things on my mind, but the only thing that prevails is this: I love you, Sora. So much.
William Shakespeare once said, wisely and love-sick, I might add, "If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering." If hell is where I'll end up, know that your name will be the first thing I speak. And if I am to be in heaven, know that the angels will sing your story until the stars fall out of the sky in tire.
Please, regardless of what happens, look after our child. Look after yourself, too. Continue to be as bright and as constant as the moon.
