Love Letters to the Dead

Love Letters to the Dead

  • WpView
    Reads 206
  • WpVote
    Votes 20
  • WpPart
    Parts 10
WpMetadataReadComplete Tue, Mar 1, 201649m
I'll never forget the day my boyfriend died. It was all an accident, but I still feel like it was my fault. His death was exactly one year ago, but I still haven't forgiven myself for what I did to him. It was funny how well we clicked together. We were polar opposites, in personalities and in looks. He had short black hair, dark brown eyes, and tan skin while I had long, blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, and peach skin. He was a total daredevil, rebellious, and always talking. I never get in trouble, I never take risks, and I'm extremely quiet. He knew everyone at our school, and I'm more of a loner; I only have a few friends. Despite our differences, we both thought we were perfect for each other. Until mistakes lead to accidents, and those accidents fall along the lines of death...
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • The Guy I Could Never Have
  • Fallen
  • Crash Car Burn (Not Edited)
  • Pinky Promise
  • Childhood Enemies
  • The Professor's Rule
  • The boy he wasn't looking for
  • Mr. Match (BoyxBoy) ✓
  • Troubled love

Some people arrive quietly. No fireworks. No background music. Just a look. A name. A violet shirt in a white room. You don't realize it's the start. Not until you're too far in. I didn't fall for him the way stories say you should. There was no moment of knowing. Just a slow ache that built between library tables and half-finished coffee cups. The kind of love that feels like a question no one teaches you how to ask. We were never official. Never obvious. We were playlists. Eye contact. A sentence that almost sounded like confession-until it didn't. And somewhere in that space between almost and never, I became someone I didn't recognize. Someone quieter. Smaller. And then... someone who walked away. This is not a story about the guy I ended up with. This is about the one I couldn't have. The one who arrived too late. The one who taught me that not all love stories need a happy ending- Some just need a girl who finally chooses herself. And this time, I did.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines