Author By Chance

Eighteen; It seemed that the 80's were mocking us

Katherine's POV:

The Man; A letter derived from the theme of heartbreak from the film, 'The Best Of Me.'

Dear the man,

I didn't know how to start this letter positively. I have wrote a ton of drafts to you even though I know you won't see this, just like I won't see your presence impacting my life ever again... The first 2 days of your leaving physically killed me. In class I broke down but nobody even noticed, they didn't even care that I was breaking down, maybe because I was no longer the star quarterback whom everyone loved. I really tried hard to stay happy and positive but all I felt was a sense of hopelessness and negativity fogging up my way. I never knew what my life would be like without my... you... I never knew how one person's presence could impact my life in so many ways. You will never see me graduate. You will never see if I have become successful with my artworks. You will only see your son that you broke into pieces haunting you wherever you go. I once thought about your death and I know it sounds morbid but sometimes I think about how my life would be like if you weren't there in the first place. How I would see love in a clearer perspective, since you destroyed my mother's heart each time you left. It's funny really right about now I should feel hatred towards you but all I feel is an emptiness, a longing for you to come back. Each day, I still wait for you right by the window and at our house, even though I know you are gone and will never come back. Each day gets harder to live through... to bear through. You... Why did you decide to leave? Did all of the memories that we shared as... parent and son mean anything? Did you even love me? Was this whole relationship as parent and son just an act, some kind of sick and twisted joke that gave you a weird sense of satisfaction? Furthermore, why did I choose to defend you every chance I get, nearly pushing away the girl that has given me so much happiness, life and love that I have lost out on from... you. I painted a bunch of paintings for you, all a bunch of sunrises, sunsets and one night sky. You told me made up stories about the sun and the moon. I still wonder why you stopped telling me such beautiful stories and I wonder when you just gave up on me altogether. Mr Salisbury, I thank you for everything you have given me and have introduced me to. Thank you for showing me what you don't do in your child's life. As I continue writing this letter... the feeling of longing and emptiness is slowly but surely disappearing. I wish you would have had the decency to confess to me why you left, at least then I will completely be free from the nightmare of you.

Lincoln Salisbury.

P.S. if you ever see this letter, don't try to find me.

With shaky hands I place the piece of paper back onto Lincoln's bedside table. Brushing his hair back to reveal his forehead, tears fell down my face. How could one person deal with so much bottled up emotions? Should I show this to his mother? No, that would be a breach of his privacy, especially since in this society men aren't supposed to show their true emotions. I wish that they would because it will help them overcome this wave of emotions that threaten to tear them apart.

Can't we just have a world where everyone liked each other and wasn't going to get hurt from their own family members or friends. Even if that did happen it would be chaotic and someone will be bound to ruin this Utopia that will never be achieved, only in fantasies will these places ever exist.

My phone lights up and as it does I am reminded of the chapter that I neglected to write tonight. Biting my lip I kiss Lincoln's face and slowly retreat out of his bedroom.

I grab my laptop and log into my gmail, opening Google Docs. The words that I wanted to use for this chapter escape me and I am enveloped in the abyss of the flashing black stick that is currently taunting me. A week ago I would more than happily write a chapter with no worries but now that Lincoln's well being is on thin ice I was prevented from expressing myself with the words that were haunting the inside of my head. Shutting my laptop lid I sigh as I am consumed by the darkness once again.