Compromise / Hardlet {Skins}

C▪O▪M▪P▪R▪O▪M▪I▪S▪E

Dear Grace,
It's been a while, yeah ? Well, depending on how we see it, of course. I haven't talked to you face to face since a year, but you're always somewhere in my mind and in my heart. You may have left physically, but I still feel you near me, Gracey.

Yesterday, I drove all the way down, from Cambridge to Bristol. I was accepted to Bradbury and figured it'd be a good idea to move there until I finish studying. Moving out of "Brizzle", as we sometimes call it, helped me getting through my mourn phase. I stayed at my parents', which felt weird. Everything was the same, in my room. As if nothing ever changed. As if you were still here.

Today has been hard, you don't know how much. I woke up, put on some black clothes and got out at noon. I had to be at the cemetery for 2 pm, so I decided to drive around the city. It brought back so many things I thought I had forgotten about.
When the time came, I drove to the cemetery, where I met all of our friends. I had miss them all alot, but our friendship hadn't change at all. We then all walked down to your grave. Liv made a comment on your "bouncy bed" video she showed me, last year, which made me smile. After that, nothing. We decided to stay silent. Nobody knew what to say. Even Grace, Alo and Mini's daughter, stopped moving around in her pink stroller to focus on your tomb stone.

Talking about the Creevey-McGuinness child, know that you're her godmother while I'm her godfather. Not officially, but everybody agreed to say that we were. She is a beautiful, joyful, playful little girl. I know you guys aren't related in any way, but I also know for a fact that she's got your smile.

When I got home after that, an hour or two ago, I felt a couple of tears streaming down my cheeks. This reminded me of that one night, where I was supposed to go to Napalm Death's concert, which I couldn't, since I had ripped in half my tickets, out of anger, knowing I had gone deaf from listening to this stupid dangerous record I had just bought. I decided to go to your dance recital, before attending the show by your side with tickets you owned. I remember tearing up, seeing you dancing, Gracey. It's crazy how things change. I first teared up from being moved to tearing up from feeling sorrow, both caused by the same person.

That's when the idea of writing you a letter popped up in my mind. So, here I am, Grace Blood. Or, should I say, my Gracey Violet.

You'd be happy, my hair has grown back to my shoulders. Like I assured you, I haven't cut them since our (never-to-be) wedding. I never will cut them shorter than that, for you. I owe you that, at the least.

Chatting about our wedding...Sometimes, I regret not actually marrying you. Not having a ring around my finger, a ring that would remind me of you. A ring I'd put every moring before leaving for Bradbury. I wonder if I would've brought it in Morocco or not, in fear of losing it. Because I believe that would've been my concern, back then. Now, if I had to do it all again...I wouldn't. Well, I would, I just would've somehow convinced everyone that staying at the villa was a better idea than to go to that rave, on the beach. Morocco was great until then.
Morocco...It took me a while to be able to talk about it without breaking down, to be honest. Let's say that I didn't have a lot of fun, at the end.

When all of this comes to my mind, I think about all the things I could've done to stop you from going into Matty's 4x4 to protect you from dying in this freak accident. But, after all, I realized that thinking that way wouldn't bring you back. That believing there was something I should've done will not bring you back either. That, at the end, nothing ever will. You're gone, no matter what...

I'm gonna tell you a secret now: Sometimes, at night, I rethink about those moments where I believed you were still alive. When I went to the hospital, when we were at the party, when we were in your room, even these calls. And, mostly, that one and last time in the pool. Your lips felt so real yet so unpredictable. I knew that, of course, you couldn't be there in any way yet I was so sure you weren't completely gone. I sometimes wonder if it was a result or Jungian psychology or if it was actually...you. Something like your spirit. I usually say outloud that it was because of Jungian psychology, but deep down, I'm secretly hopping it was you. Hopping that somehow, somewhat, you came on earth to be with me until the last minute.

Know, Grace, that nothing in this world will change the love I have for you. I know that you'd want me to be happy. I know you'd want me to find someone, someone who'd love me and who'd make me feel safe. But, I know you're the only one I'll ever feel this way with. So, I accepted it. I accepted the fact that I'll never love anyone else the way I loved you while you were still alive. I will love someone, one day, when the time will come. Just, not the same way I did (and still do) with you.

I hope you remember, mostly because it would prove the fact that it really was you, the day you last called me, the morning after the party. I was wondering why you left when I woke up alone in your bed. I heard my phone rigning from outside and answered it. It was you. I still remember every bit of this call.
"Hello ?" I answered.
"I had to go." you said.
"Yeah, why ?"
"

You know why, Rich."
"No..? Come back."
"I can't... Isn't everything beautiful this morning ?"
I remember looking up at the bright sky, seeing the sun through tree branches after you said this. You continued by stating:
"Everything is so beautiful."
"I don't understand." I said, feeling confused.
"I love you, Rich."
And then, nothing. You hung up. I took a close up look at my phone and realized it was broken. Destroyed. It was at that very moment that I understood that something was wrong.
I talked with your father and he told you died the day before. You were dead. Dead. My Gracey Violet was not alive anymore.

As I said, you hung up before I could say anything else. You didn't let me say it back. The last thing you told me was that you loved me. And so, the last time I'm gonna tell you is going to be the same:

I love you, Gracey.

(PS: I used to say I didn't compromise anything, ever. Well, I did. And this, with you.)

-Richard Hardbeck, 2012