Letters For You

Goodbye Oliver

Saying goodbye Sunday, February 18th, 2018

By Emily Davis

It's time. It's happening now. The final letter. The final goodbye. The goodbye I chose. The goodbye I want. The perfect goodbye if it exists. Can you see me? I am at the cemetery. Sitting with my back on your grave. Imagining that the stone is your back. Imagining that you're here, listening to me as I read out loud what I am writing.

Oliver, it's only now that I realise that I never mentioned your name is those letters. Such a pretty name for a pretty man. Oliver. It used to be my favorite word in every language. I used to say it as often as I could. Then, I couldn't even bear to see it written down. How could my favorite word make me cry every time I heard it? So, I stopped using it. I referred to you as "my boyfriend" in sentences like: "My boyfriend had a car accident ten days before our high school graduation." Until I didn't remember how it sounded. I never want to forget again. I'll say your name as often as I want. Oliver. Now, I say sentences like: "Oli died in a car accident ten days before our high school graduation." Oliver died. Those are two words I never thought I would put together in the same sentence so soon. I thought I would say those words when we would be old and wrinkled. When we would have had a life together. A wedding, kids, and a lot of memories later. Not now. No one should have to say those words about an eighteen-year-old man. No one should die before their eighteenth birthday. No one. Because it's not fair. It's not fair that you died while you had your entire life ahead of you. You were going to go to college, play soccer at Stanford, become an engineer, play soccer with your kids, grow old. We were supposed to have a future. A future that disappeared with you.

It's not fair that a drunk driver hit you while you were coming home from a party where you didn't drink because you knew you would drive. It's not fair that your mother got a call from the police at one a.m. asking her to come down to the station. It's not fair that she had to identify your body at two a.m. It's not fair that she had to call me at three to tell me that her son was dead. I'll never forget the words she used. "Oli had an accident, love. He didn't make it. He's gone. I'm so sorry darling, Oliver's dead." I didn't believe it, how could I? Eighteen years old boy don't die like that. How are you supposed to say goodbye to someone who wasn't supposed to die? To someone who died too soon. Way too soon. It took me nearly two years to find out the right words to say goodbye to you. If such words exist. I won't say that you were an amazing man. Smart, nice, generous, funny, etc. because you already know that. I told you numerous times. I'd like to say things you didn't know.

Like how you inspired me to pursue my dreams no matter how out of reach they were. Everyone told me it was unrealistic for a girl from a small suburb of Seattle to become a writer. Everyone except you. "They don't know what you're capable of. They don't know you like I do." That's what you told me when I came home crying from my meeting with the school counselor who spent an hour telling me how foolish I was. Because of you, I know that there is nothing too big or too high. There is nothing I can't do.

Or how you showed me how to be loved. The pure love I could see in your eyes. I know I am worthy. If someone like you loved me like that, then I deserve the absolute best. No one will ever put me down. No one will ever tell me I am not good enough. No one will ever tell me that I don't deserve the best. Because I know I do. I know I am good enough.

Here I am, sitting on your grave saying the words I never thought possible. Oliver is dead. You are dead. You died in a car accident ten days before our high school graduation. You died alone in the middle of the highway, trapped under your car. I am sorry. I am sorry I didn't tell you I loved you before you left that night. I am sorry that the last words I told you were "get out." I am sorry I was too tired to go with you. I am sorry I was upset that you decided to go without me. I am sorry that, when I received your mother's call, I was mad at you. I was mad at you because I thought it was your fault. You were coming back from a party, you had drunk and took your car. I am sorry that was the first thought in my mind. I am sorry I didn't think higher of you. You had never drunk and drive, I should've known better. I am sorry, Oli. I am sorry that we will never get our happy ending. I am sorry that our story wasn't a fairy tale.

There hasn't been a day since that night where you haven't crossed my mind. I think about you every day. Oli would have liked that. I wonder what he would have thought of this movie. And so on.

I may be saying goodbye to you today, but I am not forgetting you. I promise. I am saying goodbye to our future. I am saying goodbye to my sadness. But I'll never say goodbye to our memories or to my love for you. I'll always keep those in my mind and in my heart. That way, you'll never be totally gone.

But I need to say goodbye to have my own future. I need this to start living again. I need to let go. So, here I am trying to do just that. I bought roses before coming here. I also brought the Shania Twain CD you gave me and I made a copy of a couple of pictures of us. I put the pictures in an envelope that I attached to the flowers. The CD has been playing since I arrived and before I leave, I'll put it back in its box and I'll put it beside the flowers. I also made a copy of everyone of these letters. I told you I'd bury them so you could read them. And I keep my promises. They are all addressed to you anyway, you should have a chance to read them. I just want you to know that they helped me a lot. I needed you to say goodbye to you. They will be in the envelope behind the pictures. When I'll be ready to leave, I'll bury the envelope with the end of the flowers.

When you're ready, you can come and pick up the envelope. If you're not sure if it's the right one, mine as two words on it:

Goodbye Oliver.

This is it guys! This is the last original letter from Emily to Oliver! You finally know his name 😉 I will wait a while before I'll start posting the second part of Emily's story!

Thank you so much for this journey, I love you guys xxx