Letters To Suicidal

n i n e

Eumee was scared.

She was afraid of everything at the moment. She was afraid of how she felt around Kyler, because she's never experienced anything like it before. She was afraid of stepping outside her small apartment, because she though people might stare and notice her unsure stance. She was afraid of the knives in the creaky old kitchen drawer, because at any time she could be too overwhelmed and just cut herself. She was afraid of the piece of rope tucked into the farthest part of her bedside drawer, because it was what she was supposed to use before she wrote the first letter.

Her breathing was ragged and her eyes couldn't settle on one spot. At first she'd stare at her ceiling with spots of yellow and open cracks. Then she'd move on to the unhinged closet door. The creaky floorboards. The blue rug. The ceiling fan. She'd stare at anything - moving or not, because she couldn't settle down the butterflies in her stomach when she thought of Kyler.

After Kyler had held her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, she almost cried. She thought she would die in his arms. She thought that maybe, just maybe, if she wasn't as hurt and broken as she was now, maybe she would have loved Kyler. Maybe she would have fallen in love with him more.

But the truth was, Eumee did love Kyler - she fell in love with Kyler, and it was obvious to her, because she wouldn't have continued writing letters if she didn't. She'd have stopped and put everything in the past and burrow memories into the back of her mind, then proceed to burn the three letters she's received.

But Eumee couldn't love anyone.

She closed her eyes, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She felt her stomach plummet as she sat up straight on her squeaky bed. It protested against her weight by letting out a loud groan as she pushed herself to the edge and pulled her bedside drawer open. She bit her lip and reached inside. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. When she grasped the long piece of rope she burrowed inside the drawer, she drew a deep breath as an attempt to keep her breathing steady and fished it outside of the drawer.

Tears ran down her cheeks, and for a moment, she wondered if it was worth it.

--

"Dear Kyler,

You've gave me letters that I would cherish forever. You gave me happiness that I would feel for eternity. You made me feel emotions I didn't know existed. You made my mind go nuts and my heart to break. You are the reason I'm alive and breathing, because if you hadn't replied to me, there would still be a hole in my heart that could never have been sealed off. You're much more than a stranger that left notes, and so much more than some guy.

In a world where words could mean much less than nothing, you gave me words that made me feel human. Sentences that made me feel beautiful. Letters that made me feel worth having.

I hope you've read my letters, because those might as well be the last things I could give to you. I wrote you on October 18, and replied on October 20. I met you on October 22, and I fell in love with you on November 7, and I saw you on December 27. You were like a puzzle piece that fit with my heart, and you patched up my mending emotions.

Strange how things should work out. At first I left a letter on the street to vent out my emotions, but then you replied to me, and everything went uphill from there. You gave me new memories in life. New emotions and new experiences. New boundaries and limitations. New hopes and dreams. You were like some sort of hero that saved the damsel in distress.

But not every story has a happy ending. Ours may not have such a happy ending, yet we had such a strange beginnings. Though endings are supposed to happen in life because they open new doors, I can't open mine. I can't because I'm scared. Scared to see what awaits. Scared to let go of the past. Of us, whatever we are - or were.

But, Dear Kyler, there's one thing I could say.

You gave letters to suicidal, shed tears for the mute, shared part of your life to a stranger, and gave support to the broken.

"Dear Stranger, I love you, more than anything in the world, with more sane but insane reasons."

- Eumee"

ASDGFJDMIS

THIS IS NOT, I REPEAT, NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. Yes, there's one more chapter remaining. Gosh, I had so much fun (sad word, really) writing this ten chapter long book. It's been an amazing writing experience along with all the feedback you guys have given me. Leave some votes and comments, yeah?

- aubrey