Dear Jacky

6/26

Dear Jacky,

I guess you could say the world sucks. I now understand why you decided to leave. Well, not fully. I know you had your reasons (which I'd still like to know.) But I get it. You didn't want to leave me any clues. You wanted to be your strange self and make everything a little bit more exciting. You always did. But back to what I was saying. The world fucking sucks. Everything is so difficult and the people areas rude and I just hate it. I hate it. I really really do. No one can convince me otherwise. People will literally just do anything for money. Have sex. Rob a bank. Rob a house. And no, not just any house. But this house. Your house. A group of teenagers thought it would be cool to rob a house where a girl died. I hope you go back and haunt them. Please. They're rude. They're assholes. If I find them, I'll be sure to send them up to you so you can handle them. I know you will. You know I will. They robbed your house, Jacky. Why would they do that? What's the point of it. They came in your room. They destroyed your room. Everything was just the way you left it and now it's all out and about. Everything is destroyed. They stole your laptop. The timeless pictures and memories we had on that laptop are all gone with them. Everything that proved you were my girl were on that laptop. I'll never get to see those again. Ever. They went through the box. You know? The box that I put all these letters in. They rummaged through it. They read some of the letters. They read my heart. Maybe that's what convinced them to leave without anything else. You probably saw their faces. You were probably here. You probably screamed for them to stop. To leave alone the box. Everything. I swear, Jacky. They took everything.

Fuck. I wish you could just talk to me. Give me a hint. Give me a sign. Not just put your hand on my shoulder. I want to turn around and kiss you but you're not there. I mean you are, but you're not actually there. You flawless skin and perfectly strong bones are not there. You're thin, blonde hair swaying with every move is not there. You're bright, pale, sky blue eyes aren't there to look at me anymore. Jacky, with every waking second that you're not here, I swear, the world gets worse and worse. You kept people in their track. You took control without even trying. You say the word and we would've went. You kept people sane. You made people who they are. You kept people who they are. Without you, I would still be friends with Paul. He was never good for me, Jack. He was never good for me or you or even Ally. He didn't want this. No one wanted this. No one wanted anything that they were given in this life. I didn't want to be writing you letters, knowing you'll never read them. I didn't want to have to go through my life without the person I loved the most. I didn't want to see your dead body in the bloody water. I didn't want you to feel so much pain that you wanted to leave me alone. I didn't want you to live the life you did. I didn't want any of this.

I wish we could've switched places. I wish I would've been the one to die. Not you. I could've taken your pain away. I know how selfish that sounds, but I'm tired of hurting. I'm actually quite annoyed with missing you. I hate how I miss you so much. I hate how I can't write a fucking letter to you without telling you I miss you. I hate that no matter what I do, you never leave my mind. Every song. Every thought. Every word. Every girl. They're all you. Reincarnations of your voice, face, body, soul. Reincarnations of everything you ever were. You come back and haunt my life. I just want happiness, Jack. That's all I want. I know a person shouldn't control your happiness, but before I met you I was so broken. So hurt. And then you hugged me so tight that all my broken pieces stuck back together. So, I was determined to do the same for you. But I never could. You left me before I could. I tried, though. I tried so hard. But I just couldn't do it. Everything I did was for you. For your happiness. Now I hardly know why I do things. I like to think it's because I know doing certain things would make you happy but I just can't figure it out sometimes. Like that girl from the grocery store? She's sweet. I was going to make plans with her, but then I couldn't even figure out why I would do that. She's not you. You wouldn't be happy. You would be upset. You'd pretend to be happy, but I know you wouldn't be. You'd want me to love you forever like I was planning to anyway.

I want to die, Jacky. I really do. If I die, I'll be with you again. The pain will stop. Happiness will flood back into me. I would be sitting at your desk in your chair. An empty bottle of Zoloft on the ground and pills practically overflowing in my mouth. Or maybe I'd go to your favourite building. I'd climb to the top and try to reach for you. I'd touch my finger tips to the clouds, and then slip. I'd start falling but it would feel like I was floating. It would feel like gravity gave up on me and allowed me to feel you once again. And then I would hit the ground. No feeling. I would look at my body and then into your eyes. I would feel home again. I would know where we were. I would feel happiness again. I wouldn't have to deal with my father or college or Ally or Paul or people in general. I would be done trying. I would be done feeling so empty. I'd be done, Jacky. Everything would be fine. Everything would be more than fine. It would be perfect. It would be good. It would be happy again.

Love,

Danny