clouds ☁ lrh

epilouge // lukes notebook

Lauren's POV
It takes them three hours to pry my hands off of Lukes.
Three days to get me out of his bed. It smells like him.
Three weeks to get me out of mine.
A month to get me in the same room as that damned book.

Two months to get me to open it.

Dear Lauren,
So your opening this book.

Congratulations.

I'm sorry for whatever happened or how you got this.

This is going to explain everything about me that you always wanted to know because now that I'm gone you deserve to know. Because I love you.

I love clouds because they are my home. Ever since little me got his first set of crutches, I've known I'm going to live a short life.

Where do we go when we die?

The clouds. We go up. We float. If I have to spend alot of time up there I may as well get to know it. You know when you go to move, you look at the house before you buy it to make sure it feels homey enough?

Bingo.

Airplane rides? Preparing me for moving in.

This seems brutal. I know. It's just one of the only things I feel safety in. Lying on the grass thinking 'how fucking nice would that be to live in a cloud?'

I'm writing this while I'm still healthy. I could drop dead any minute, though.

I'm going to tell you something else. I tell you (specifically you,) alot that the things they do to me don't hurt. Honestly, they hurt alot. Like drop me in a lava pit kind of hurt. Like throw me off a cliff and watch me crumble kind of hurt. I want you to know that death for me was kind of a blessing because I'm so damn sore and my everything hurts. I'm. Just. So. Done.

I want to say thank you for everything. Thank you for looking past my midget, crippled body and making me feel welcome. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for keeping me sane. I can't thank you enough.

Thank you for taking me on an airplane. God, I love airplanes. Not only because I get to feel dead, because I got to spend it with you.

Thank you for not being rude. That's self explanatory.

Thank you for helping me with everything.

This was probably just as scary to you as it was to me. But I want you to know that I'm okay with being gone. I'll feel better.

I moved here to be closer to the hospital because I had been getting so sick. At night, two AM through five, it was a battle between my head and my stomach to see who could hurt the most. How many times can you puke before loosing consciousness? The answer is seven.

I didn't tell you these things because I wanted you to be able to talk to me without thinking 'oh poor luke' because people who do that suck major ass. Like major fucking ass.

You've got yourself a guardian angel now. (Cheesy af) Unless I go to hell, so in that case sorry. But seriously. Your my best-est friend in the history of ever and I love you so much. If it's true that angels exist and I can choose someone to watch over than I choose you.

Take good care of my mom for me. And your mom.

Most importantly, take care of yourself. Make sure you're eating three meals, make sure you're getting up everyday and make sure you are HAPPY. Please make sure you're happy.

Sorry for being sentimental but seriously. Don't be sad. :(

Shit im crying now

I'm scared. Fuck it, I'm terrified. But whatever happens to me happens and just remember that I love you. Don't dwell over me. Ask for help of you feel upset. Treat yourself well.

Anyways, I'm sorry for the badly written/planned out letter this is. I'm very tired now so I'm gonna go to bed.

I. Love. You.

Your personal cripple,
Luke.
(P.S., I'll see you in the clouds one day.)
-
That was it.