April 16, 2014
Dear Maisie Charleston,
Your letter was beautiful.
No, it wasn't Shakespeare, but it was sincere, which is far more impressive coming from someone like you. And I must agree with you, life lost its purpose without Jeannette . There's just something about death and the inevitability of it that makes you think about how much time you have left yourself, and rather more importantly, wether or not your time is worth it in the end. There is a significant difference between surviving and living, and I've come to believe that one is useless without the other.
The thing is, love is a venom. The kind that tastes sweet and smells pleasant. The kind that destroys you inside and out. But after there is nothing left of you to live, you know one thing: The venom was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to you. The sweetness and promise of it on your tongue...... Yes. You will die, but you will die remembering that oh-so-sweet taste. You will die remembering that one moment of serenity.
Yes, Maisie. That is what love is. It will destroy us not physically, but emotionally. And when our time finally comes, we will remember the way Jeannette twirled her hair when she was nervous and the way she would erupt in laughter at the mere threat of being tickled.
Or so we can. We have already taken the venom, but wether or not we let it take us is entirely up to us. Are we strong enough? Am I strong enough? Every day I begin to doubt more and more.
Sincerely,
Peter Holden
YOU ARE READING
From: Maisie
Teen FictionA book of letters written between Maisie Charleston and Peter Holden, two lost people trying to get over the death of their dear friend, Jeannette. Assume all images used in this story are not mine.
