January 31

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by WriteDrunk

by WriteDrunk

Dear Luke, January 31, 2014

Michael said I should start writing down my feelings, since I don't have you to tell them to. So Calum bought me this little diary, even after I asked him to get something that didn't say 'Diary' on the front. They told me I should start learning to get along without you. I told them to get bent. Quite rude, I know, but they just shook it off. So being a rebel I am, I'm writing to you, becuase this is the closest I can get to any sort of conversation with you anymore these days.

I haven't seen your smile in a very long time, Luke. Too long. I miss it dearly.

It's my fault though, right? I shouldn't have let you drive. You were tired. You wanted to sleep, but you put me first as usual, and look where you are right now. In a hospital, on a respirator, dangling over death by a string. But, even in this state, you would put me first. Because that's just you. It's your fucking kindhearted personality that ruined us. Ruined you. If I wasn't here, you would be happy. You would be smiling. And I would be watching in a more far away place, but at least I would see it. Now all I see is a pale, gaunt face surrounded by tubes and wires that keep you alive.

That was rude of me, I'm sorry. Your kindhearted personality saved me from a lot of things. Things that I don't want to go into detail about, because this entry is supposed to be upbeat.

I guess I fucked up the upbeat thing. Sorry about that too. I'm just a little anxious. It's been two weeks since I've heard your voice.

Okay, that's a lie. I've called your phone a thousand times. Just to hear your answering machine because your hands are not able to move and pick it up. You aren't able to let the words 'I love you' roll off your tongue in that way you do. You aren't able to grin at my stupidity of certain things from football to Miley Cyrus' new performance. I miss making you laugh.

It's our eight month anniversary in two weeks. Did you know that? I'm sure you did know that. But I'm not sure about now. Can you hear things like in those movies depicting coma patients? I'll have to ask you that when you wake up. If you wake up.

Back on the anniversary. You asked me out on June 14th so that we could celebrate on a Valentine's day. Do you remember how you first asked me out? You got down on one knee and gave me one of the cheesiest smiles in the world. Then you said, "Ashton Fletcher Irwin, will you go out with me?" I still have the Ring Pop you put on my finger with your 'proposal'. It's in a little baggie that I keep in my nightstand. Eight months, Hemmings. You'd better be awake for this.

I fell for you like the ashes of a cigarette; so quickly, but so quietly. No one knew for a while; my love for you a secret. But, evidently, your love for me was a secret too.

That love didn't stay as quiet as I would've liked it to. But it's kind of a funny story how we got together. It's great what a movie can do for you when it gets you and your best friend together. I thank God for The Conjuring sometimes, because if we'd seen something less scary, I wouldn't have jumped into your lap and you wouldn't have kissed me.

Thank God for The Conjuring.

Oh and one more thing. I LOVE YOU. I love you more than anything, Luke. I'm sorry I never said it before. But I'm saying it now, so it counts right?

I love you.

-Ashton

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-Katie