Letters to Fred [CURRENTLY OPEN TO REQUESTS]

George #2

Hi Fred.

I'm back. It's been a while, I know.

I can't do this. I can't - I can't live like this. Alone.

No matter how much they try to convince me, it's not working. The others lost you too, but you were just a sibling, a son.

Some twins aren't close. They'll perhaps have a love-hate relationship. I'm starting to wish that we were like that, to dull the pain.

Would it work? Lessen this- this emptiness? This lack of my other? Or would it intensify for not getting to know you better?

I'm alone, Fred, and I never dreamt in my worst nightmare that that was something that would happen. I doubted it was even possible.

At least we grew old together once. We were bowling the other, wrestling before taken to the Hospital Wing. I found a photo (don't know who took it) and have attached it.

What are you doing up there? I miss you.

And... What am I supposed to do? You are so lucky you won't be the one who lives longer. Do you remember when we were kids, and would argue I've who would live the longest? Because whoever did was better. I'm not better. You always were - always will be.

I don't... I don't know what comes next for me. Do I live with the pain? Try to forget the good times?

Angelina's here now, and we're together, but I feel like a replacement. She's not the one don't that. I am.

I feel like I'm tearing myself apart. And I'll go to tell a joke, but then no one finishes it for me. I'll look around and you're not there. I remember. Every time I forget what happens, something just slaps me in the face, and brings me to the reality I dread to face every morning.

It's actually helping to get this stuff off my chest. No one else quite gets it.

I love you Freddie.

-George