Hopelessly Devoted - Bradley Will Simpson.

Letter Ten.

Bradley;

Days passed, I stayed in the same sorry position at home. The same sorry position I was in since I was brought home through the storm.

The boys all tried to convince me to leave our room, but all that was in my mind was the last time I was in your company. The dust that settled upon your pale skin, the seeming texture of porcelain. The sound of the deepening wind that rattled the poorly constructed windows, reminded me of the times we’d run to avoid it.

Do you remember the time we took a train journey, heading nowhere in particular?

I do, distinctly in fact. I lay on our bed, cuddling your pillow as I remember.

I remember how we sat in the middle of the train carriage, two naïve teenagers in their prime. Our hands stretched out over the table, interlocking halfway. The passengers around us were ageing as if by the second, and they all stared.

They all stared at the two teenagers who only had eyes for each other. Not the majestic river nor the tropical style sunset. Eyes locked on each other the whole way, no adoration spared.

They all stared at the two teenagers who only had each other, not a suitcase or penny to their names.

Soon enough the two teenagers broke apart, only to reposition. They all stared as you came to sit beside me, and I rested my head on your chest. I listened to the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat, as constant as my love for you.

Cruel, cruel irony is it not, my love?

You would place soft kisses on my forehead, earning jealous stares from some passengers, wanting a relationship like ours.

But, what made ours so special, Bradley? You had everything, and I had nothing. They said no, you ignored them and met me every night regardless. I was a hindrance and you were an influence. I was nobody and you became my somebody. My everybody. My everything.

Your rebellious side would show after waking up after our nap, your eyes twinkling like the stars outside the window. You somehow convinced me into a game of hide and seek, and off you went. Stares of disgust and disappointment graced the expressions of those around us, their fur coats and thousand pound watches not inkeeping with the tone of our love. We were unpredictable, and that’s what kept us going.

I strolled through carriage after carriage, growing more and more paranoid and afraid that I’d never find you. Child play, really, but it felt real. I checked every crevice and every nook and cranny, only to find you nowhere. I sunk back into the seat and began to sob, the theory that you wouldn’t come back to me was settling in. The aftermath began to unfold, and if only I knew then you were coming back, things would be different.

You arrived a significant amount of time later, and found me slumped against the window in a pathetic ball of sorrow and tears. You pulled me into you and whispered sweet nothings to me, a constant reassurance you would never leave me again. I felt safe, content, happy. That didn’t happen to me a lot, only when I was around you.

Now, now that’s all that I want. I’m no longer that young, immature girl on the train, running away with her boyfriend. I’m no longer that girl that had your love, your reassurance that you’d always be there and never leave me.

You’re dead, Bradley. I’ve got to accept that. And that’s what I just can’t do.

I can’t accept that you’re not going to walk through the door and pull me into your chest and cradle me until my wracked, unsteady sobs stopped and the tracks of tears stopped falling. You’re not going to kiss each of my fingertips and tell me a reason why I shouldn’t change, each ending with the three words that made every centimetre of me feel warm and tingly.

I can’t accept I’ll never see your brown eyes, nor your not-so curls. I’ll never see your surprisingly small feet hiding behind the curtain in your regular attempts to scare me before bed. I can’t accept I’ll never feel your presence beside me, the way that when the mattress dipped beside me I couldn’t help but count my blessings.

You were everything to everyone, I was nothing. You were the one they had high hopes for, I was the one they had no time for.

I was there when you graduated, I was there when you finished education. I was at your first press conference, I was there at your first show. I was there when you asked Connor to be in the band, I was there when you all cried. Because you were mine, Bradley, and I was yours. Whatever made you happy, made me happy. If you said that you loved me more than life itself, which you did quite often, then I eventually learned to love myself too.

The boys often reminisce about times passed, ignoring the choking of tears that accompanied every single time. The times you would catch selfies with them unaware, sending the fans into a frenzy. The times you would all compare your favourite fan signs after a show, the times you would remember how long the encore applause lasted.

Because you were everything to everyone, Bradley. Not just me.

You made so many lives worth living, so many smiles appear daily on those that had nothing else. You made so many people appreciate the sanctity of life, you and the boys, and now people will never have the chance to tell you.

We’ll always be those two teenagers whose affection fell deeper with every passing moment. We’ll always be those two teenagers that had only each other in a world of greed and desire.

No bullet wounds will stand in the way of that.

I’m done just speaking about taking action, nothing is coming from sitting here moping. So that’s what I shall do no more.

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