march 1, 2014
John,
I'm dying. I'm dying the same reason my mother died after giving birth to me and I cannot leave you. I cannot leave this world without telling you how I feel. I thought I would have more time but I don't and that is not good because I don't think I'll have enough courage to tell you.
I don't want to die.
I love you.
Mari
march 7, 2014
Mari,
A couple years ago, on this very day, I asked you where your mother was, and I still regret it. You broke down crying and there wasn't much I could do to comfort you because I'm not good at comforting people. But then, with deep breaths and tears that continued to trickle down your cheeks, you told me what happened.
Your mother had a rare form of cancer, and she died a week after you were born. You never knew her, but you love the idea of her because of the image your father built up of her. That's why you broke down in tears when I asked you.
I'm scared that you have the same cancer as your mother.
I'm scared you won't survive.
I love you.
John
YOU ARE READING
letters
Romansathey were five when they started writing. they were seventeen when they stopped. he was eighteen when he read her letters. he was nineteen when everything fell apart. +cover creds to abhaya ♥︎
