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summary: dallas writes you a letter and reminisces about the time you spent together.
[this is shit why can't I just let you guys have a happy Dallas story]
Dear Y/n,
I never thought I'd be writing a letter, let alone a love letter. I'm not sure if I could even call it that. I guess I just miss you or something.
Things have been different ever since you left. The Curtis house is real quiet without you.
Two-bit doesn't laugh the same as he used to. Darry is rarely at the house anymore, he tries to distract himself from your absence by filling his mind with work. Steve ain't as wild as he used to be. Sodapop doesn't flash his movie star smile at us anymore. Johnny has gone completely silent. He doesn't have you around to loosen him up anymore. Ponyboy is stuck in his head, he spends most of his time staring off into space.
We all miss you.
I can't help but wonder why you did what you did. Why did you leave? Was the gang not enough for you?
I know the gang spends all their time silently wondering this too, but none of us are brave enough to say it out loud.
You've torn us apart.
I wish I could blame it all on you, I've tried. I just want to be able to blame someone for what happened, but who is there to blame? Everyone? No one at all?
I remember the last time I saw you. We were at Buck's playing pool. I remember that you acted like your normal, outgoing self. You were something special, that's for sure.
I can now admit that I went soft for you. Something about your kindness intrigued me. Even after all of the people that wronged you in life, you still managed to see good in the world. Thanks to you, I think I started to see it a little bit too.
For me, you were the good in my world. You changed everything for me. You could light up a room with your smile. Whenever you smiled, it was subtle and perfect. It was real.
I remember when you flashed that exact smile at me that night. I couldn't help it, I fell in love.
I told you that I thought you looked really beautiful. Remember that?
And you looked me dead in the eyes and told me that you loved me. And that you were real sorry.
I didn't understand what you were sorry about that night, and I didn't answer. I didn't stop you when you walked out, and I didn't have any idea that I would never see you again.
I wish I had said it back. I wish I had told you.
You had always been special. At Buck's you always were able to dance like no one was watching. You did what made you happy, and that seemed to be enough for you. You didn't have to fit in to be happy.
That's what I loved about you. You never got embarrassed.
I can't help but wonder what made you do it?
Why did you kill yourself, Y/n?
It's too late for me to tell you now. But maybe writing it in this stupid letter could fix everything.
