six feet under

X. YOU WERE MY WISH

Dear Tommy,

I hope you don't mind the formulation. It might be a little too formal, but what I'm about to write deserves better than "hey". Besides, I never got to use this address, and what's wrong with being a little fancy when you know life won't give you another occasion to do so ?

I'm not feeling well, but I'm closer to okay than I've been for days. It's not a coincidence. I wanted to make this page special. I intend to make it the last one.

I waited until I was sure I wouldn't lose control, so you wouldn't see me begging for things we both know we can't have anymore. And if I'm being honest, I also waited because I couldn't bring myself to end this. Something in my head keeps telling me this isn't real, and you were never really there. But I feel like you were there, all along. You're probably far from here, which means we've never been so far apart. Yet I feel like we're closer than ever. I can't really explain it, I guess it doesn't matter why or how. It just happened. And I hate having to give it up.

Only, we both know I can't go on like this. So, when I'll put my pen down after writing these pages, I won't take it back. I'm thinking of throwing it somewhere to make sure I'm not tempted.

This is the last time. A very important time, because after all I wrote, I still have a lot to say. There's so much you need to know, but you need to learn it the right way. I can't mess it up.

About two days ago I saw a shooting star. I wanted to write about it sooner, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to tell others things, too, when I had to save them for today. So here we are.

I would've never known it was a shooting star if it wasn't for the memory I recovered at the sight of it. The memory of a memory, in fact. Now that's weird, I have a little explaining to do.

I think we were twelve of something, so, long before the Maze - and the Swipe. We were sneaking out as usual, me, you, Minho, Alby, Teresa. We wanted to show you the outside. People used to say we couldn't go out because it was too dangerous, but Alby, Minho and I did it anyway. So, when you had proved you could be trusted, we decided to show you.

We were on our way to the gates when I said, "I hope we get to see a shooting star!". The others grumbled (from what I remember, I had told them too many times how much I loved watching the stars) but you didn't. You looked up at me and asked what a shooting star was. I taunted you for not knowing, because I just assumed it was common knowledge, but I was secretly thrilled to have someone to talk about this to. I proudly explained what a shooting star was and repeated what my father had told me when I was just a little kid and had no idea about WICKED and the atrocities of this world.

What bothers me now is that I don't remember my father saying this to me. I thought I'd recover this memory too, but I didn't. I guess the Flare is completely messing up with the Swipe. Anyway, I remember what I told you, and that is precious enough.

"If you see a shooting star, you have to make a wish. My father said it would always come true."

Obviously, Minho grumbled "That's bullshit. Tell him, Alby." and he responded by telling him to shut it. You just kept quiet, and I remember wondering what you were thinking about. Finally, you simply said "I hope we see one too, then.". I didn't find the courage to ask what was on your mind, because I could feel it probably wasn't nice things to remember.

We didn't see a shooting star. Neither that night nor any other.

When I saw it the other day, it almost felt wrong. Like something was off. It seemed obvious when I finally put a finger on it : you should've been with me to see it. For one moment I just sat there in disbelief, thinking maybe I imagined it. Then I remembered I had to make a wish.

It's better for everyone if I don't write to you anymore. There's one last thing I need to say, though. I'm not crazy enough yet to not realise it sounds terribly stupid, and I'm not sane enough anymore to know what I was wishing for exactly. But you were my wish.

I didn't mean this in a weird way, I promise. Although you might not like it. That's the reason why I didn't want to write it in the previous pages. I fought against myself as long as I could, until I realised I was wrong. Look, I don't want you to remember me that way. I don't want you to rethink all the things I said, or done. I don't want you to wonder if the moments we spent together meant something else for me than it did for you. It doesn't matter, really.

What matters, however, is how much you meant for me.

I find it very hard to make a decision that involves both you and me, and especially you since I won't live long enough to see the aftermath of this confession. Fortunately or unfortunately, you tell me, it's too late to back out now.

I love you. Exactly in the way you're thinking of. Exactly in the way you convinced yourself I would never, because you're painfully oblivious, Tommy. I love you, but I wouldn't allow myself to say it. I was terribly afraid of losing you. I didn't want to ruin everything.

But it doesn't have to change anything. I'm not asking for you to say it back. I want everything to stay the same, to the point where I almost took this secret with me where no one could take it from me. But it didn't feel right.

If someone knows how rough life can be, that's me. I'm not blind, Tommy. I know that a happy ending doesn't make a happy man. Can we even talk about a happy ending ? It's the end. I think that's all. The horrors, the deaths, it's almost over. You made it, Tommy. But it will take a while to see you smile like you used to. You'll wake up with nightmares implanted under your eyelids almost every night, and you'll realise in the morning that some of them were real. Sometimes you'll look within yourself for the reason why you're still trying, and you won't find it. And that will be okay. It will get better. I promise.

I won't be with you to help you through this. But I can make sure you have what I needed most at my lowest. The absolute certainty that someone truly cares about you. Well, I do.

I couldn't leave without letting you know how important you are to me. You will always be the spark of hope that helped me find my way out of my own Maze. You're a leader, that's right, but I love who you are under this armour even more.

You're special to me. Don't ask me to explain it, I can't. It's just the way it is. It's the little gestures you do without realising it. The confused look on your face when you ask a dumb question. The depth of your gaze. Weird stuff like this I'll stop enumerating because I don't want to embarrass you.

I can't do much. But please know you are someone's favourite person, even if that someone can't say it to you anymore.

Sometimes I wished you knew how bloody much I love you. But it was probably best for everyone if you didn't. Even for us. Even if you loved me too. Because we both know we entered the last chapter of this story, and there is nothing we can do to make it last any longer.

I want you to remember me as the friend I've always been for you. Not the one who wasn't immune, not the depressed, limping guy. Just me.

This is all I'm asking for. This, and to see you again.

When I saw that dying star shooting across the night, I wished someone would be there to watch me leave too. I wished to see you again. I wished you'd make it the last time.

I hate goodbyes. So, I'll just say "see you again".

I hope you get to read this journal, so you never doubt that you are loved.

Love,

Newt.

PS : I miss your smile. Get it back for me, okay ? :)

AN : We're almost over with this fic... this was the last part of Newt's journal, the next one will be the epilogue, part 1 :) from someone else's point of view...

Thank you so much for reading this far, I love youuu <3