Dear Phil,
God, no, that's too common place and you are far from common, hell, the memory of you deserves better. Better than me, that's for sure, my dear.
No, again, no. You are not just dear, you are the dearest, my dearest, except you never were and now you never will be. Maybe you were just out of my league. I'm stupid, of course you were. All I was to you was a little plaything, is that fair to say? You'd probably tell me no, it's not, if, of course, you were actually still around to reprimand me for such a thought, but no matter how many times you told me off for putting myself down you had to know the fears I wasn't good enough were forever lurking in the back of my mind.
Your reassurance meant an awful lot to me, however. It meant the world actually. I loved you just enough to maybe even believe you for a second, at least until I really looked at you again and saw the amazing, wonderful being you are– were, oh god, staring back at me, little plain old me with my insecurities and social issues and just problems, so many problems you always tried to fix. You were perfect though, just like you always tried to tell me I was; you were the real deal. I just couldn't match up so I was never deserving of you, I guess.
I still loved you regardless of whether I should have been allowed, regardless of what I deserved, or you deserved, or what was fair. I still loved you. Always have, always will, just like it will always feel like my own soul is crushing my bones to splinters if I think about the fact you were just too damn blind to realise how I felt and maybe, just maybe, if you'd known you wouldn't have been so selfish as to leave me behind to think too much about everything and not understand any of it. So with that I'll leave for now; I'm not sure how much more I can write when the page has gone blurry as it has. My vision given over to what will hardly be the last tears I cry for you, Phil.
With all the love neither of us can comprehend,
Your (even though I never really was, I wanted to be so, so desperately) Dan
YOU ARE READING
Hamartia
FanfictionThese are the letters written because of a love that was never really mine to call yours, and now never can be. Or in which Phil is gone and Dan writes letters to send beyond the grave as his way to cope with a love he's never been allowed to have...
