Dear Soulmate……..the final letter (short fiction)

dear

Hey you,

It’s been four days, four hours and forty five minutes since I said goodbye to you. It’s been two days and seven hours since your last message.

The silence is deafening.

Every time there’s a flashing green message notification on my phone, I hope vainly that it’ll be from you even though my head knows it can’t be.

The only solution here is to write you a letter that in another lifetime you might read….

The number of times we’ve said “in another lifetime.” Joked and fantasised about “in another lifetime.” Some jokes are a cruel twist of fate.

Another lifetime is what separates us. Some barriers can never be crossed.

We parted without a second thought to the future. We went our separate ways with a smile and a “have a fun afternoon.”

I almost reached out to you but as always thought, “No, another time.”

I guess “another time” is in “another lifetime” now.

I still hear your voice in my head. Still see your smile when I close my eyes.

My heart aches at the thought of never hearing or seeing them again.

No more early morning bad jokes. No more late night conversations. No more wee messages that just raise a smile.

The void lies before me empty and dark.

My mind twists itself into knots as it tries to reason out whether, if I ended this lifetime, would we find each other in the next one.

If I end this lifetime, will our souls be reunited in death? Or will I slip into that empty void and be without even my sweet memories of you?

****************************************************

 

It’s been four weeks, four days, four hours and forty five minutes since I said goodbye to you.

It’s been four weeks, two days and seven hours since you sent your last message.

It’s been three weeks, three days, six hours and ten minutes since I said my last farewell through a veil of tears.

I’ve had countless one sided conversations with you in my head. Conversations that will never be had in any lifetime.

I’ve been ready to share various memes and photos with you… the account’s still there. Still alive but who would ever see them…not you.

I’ve started to type “good morning” or “have a fun day” messages then discarded those too.

Already there have been a dozen things or more that I wanted to ask your opinion on…… wanted to hear you say I wasn’t crazy, that it made sense or would work out ok.

You’d have laughed at the music they played. Not representative of the you I loved and lost at all. Made me question who knew the real you…me or them?

As ever to the rest of the world I keep my thoughts to myself. Bury my grief deeply. Mask the pain with a painted-on smile. Carry on with an “I’m fine” if anyone asks.

I’m not ok. I’m very far from ok. I’m a mess. I’m dying inside a little more each day and you’re not here to save me.

The light went out in the world when you left it and I’m scared of the dark.

*****************************************************

It’s been four months, two weeks, four days, four hours and forty five minutes since I said goodbye to you.

It’s been four months, two weeks, two days and seven hours since you sent your last message.

And I’ve read it and read it and read it.

I’ve read them all over and over. We shared some bizarre thoughts. I miss that….

I’ve tried to be strong. Tried to move on.  Tried to celebrate life.

I’ve failed.

I’m done.

It’s time to search for you in that other lifetime.

Don’t you dare try to talk me out of this. I can still hear you in my head. The voice of reason itself.

It’s time. The blade’s new so it will cut deep and fast and clean. The heat of the hot water will wash away the pain.

It’s time to start that other lifetime. I just hope you’re waiting for me there….

——————————————–

She was found a few hours later by her husband. The folded up letter was gripped tightly in her lifeless hand, its content partly obliterated by the blood that had drained from her slashed wrists.

Hours later, he tried to read it, thinking it was a final letter to him. He struggled to decipher her handwriting but realised almost immediately that the flourishes hadn’t been penned to him….but who had she been writing to? He’d never know.

(image sourced from Google- credits to the owner)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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