I'm almost me again (She's almost you)

Chapter 20

To Jisoo,

I think this is the last letter I'll ever write to you. The rest are at the bottom of the English Channel by now; I never did send them. For so long I wondered whether I should just tear them up and throw them away, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I think I was clinging to the hope that it had all been a bad dream, and I'd hand them to you in Paris. We'd be sitting on the deck of my narrowboat, parked on the Seine, drinking coffee in the summertime and making amends for old wounds.

It was never anything more than a wishful fantasy though. And now, it's all over. I'm not going to Paris, because you're dead, and there's nothing waiting for me there except disappointment. Now, it's time for me to grieve. Properly.

That doesn't mean that I'll forget about you though - how could I? - only that I don't need the letters anymore, because there's nothing more than I can say to you. But I'll remember you, always. There'll come a time when I'll forget the things you said to me and the things you did, but I'll never forget the way you made me feel, and I'll always be fond of you for that. But it wasn't really love. I think deep down I knew that, and deep down you led me on because you didn't want to hurt me if you didn't have to. But it's okay, Jisoo. I love you for your kind heart, I love you for the family that you gave me when my real one fell apart, and I love you for forgiving me when I didn't deserve your forgiveness at all.

Jennie forgives me too, for the things I said when we parted ways. It wasn't until I was too far gone that I was afraid I'd never see her again either. That we'd parted ways like you and I did. But I called her after the accident, and she came, and I fell apart because I love her and I miss you, and it's been so hard. She made it easier though. I didn't realise that I was falling in love with her while I was there, or that I was falling out of love with the idea of you too. Not until I left her behind in exchange for nothing ahead.

She asked me to stay, to watch the ivy covering the cottage turn from green to red in autumn, and I turned her down. I turned her down for you, and I don't know why. Perhaps I was in denial of the fact that you're dead, but that's the harsh truth. You're dead and she's alive. She said she knows that I'll never love her the way that I loved you, and she's right. But she was wrong too because I don't think I was ever really in love with you. You just made me feel less alone, for a time, and I tricked myself into thinking that it meant I had a chance with you. I see now that I never really did.

You know the feeling when warm sunlight touches your face? That's Jennie. I think I have a chance with her. She makes me feel safe and loved, and I didn't realise it until she turned up at the docks, but I was starting to think of her as home. She makes me feel more loved than I even realised, and I'm starting to love her too. The right way. It's strange, to know how it feels to truly be loved. I'm almost me again, and she's not you, but together, we're something else. I wasn't perfect for you, but I'm perfect for her, and it feels more right than anything I've ever known.

Before I go, I need you to know that I'm not delusional, and I'm not crazy. I knew you were gone, and that nothing in the world could have brought you back. I just couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. I hate how we left things. I hate that the last words I said to you were in anger when you were lying there in that hospital bed with a woman that wasn't me by your side. I hate that I never got to say goodbye to you properly. But you've always loved Paris so I thought I'd say goodbye there, the way I wanted to. I guess I wanted to prolong the moment, so that I never had to get to the part where I let you go, for good.