Dysmorphia

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The Parting of The Ways

My Florence Elizabeth Clarke,

Here we are at the end, the very end in my case, but for you just the beginning

I just left you in your room after the night where you shone brighter than I’ve ever seen you shine, you were a beacon of hope spreading light in a place I was certain only contained the deepest depths of darkness.

I’m not feeling great right now and there are things I promised to tell you that need to be said.

Be mad at me, I encourage you to be angry at me, rant at me, scream at me and call me the worst names you can come up with, I deserve your anger. But after you’ve got over your rage try to understand, try to understand that I did what I thought was best, I wanted to tell you, I swear I did, the amount of times I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words I can’t even count.

Partly I didn’t tell you for you, you were a patient, you were the one who needed to get better and when it became clear to me and every other worker here that it would take alot more than medicine to cure you of your ailment, I couldn’t burden you with my problems to add to the weight on your shoulders, for someone so young, you’d already suffered so much, you barely wanted to keep living when you first arrived, who was I to tell you that I was dying, that would have sucked all the hope out of you.

And that is something I would never, ever want. Levi told me when you first arrived that we had alot in common that beyond all reasoning and all the directions fate had spiralled us in, we were both still alive, we were both still taking breaths every single day and fighting to survive.

You needed time and I didn’t want to influence your choices, even once I realised what was happening between us, even more so then. Falling in love with you only made those choices more complicated and I feared that you might choose to stay for me and then, after I was gone, change your mind, I couldn’t let that happen.

Partly my choice was selfish, and for that I’m sorry. For so long now people have been trying to fix me, where they failed, you succeeded. You’ve given me more life in the last couple of weeks than I’ve had in years, talking to you, making memories with you, fearing for you, wanting to show you the beauty of life rather than the terror- it was bitter-sweet, but more importantly Florence, it was real.

I know this is meant to be the part where I beg you to move on, to go on with your life and be happy, but I don’t need to say those things because I know your life will be extraordinary, you are going places Florence and though I wish I could be by your side as you go to them I know that you are strong enough to conquer anything.

It’s startling what you think about on your death-bed, I mentioned my brother to you once before and now I need you to do something for me, almost forty miles away he’s going to be released from prison in two months for a crime that he most definitely committed, he’s just about as broken as a person can be and I allowed my anger and my grief about our parents to cloud my judgement.

Please go to him Florence, go to him when he’s released and give him the letter enclosed in this one, tell him I’m sorry and try to fix him, try to fix him just like you fixed yourself show him that life is worth living, show him that he is forgiven for his past mistakes, don’t let him believe that he shouldn’t carry on with his life.

You don’t have to do this, but I know you are pure enough that you will and that is a consolation to me.

His name is Cole, please treat him kinder than I have.

I’ve left you my car, because I know you love the freedom – and my apartment, because you need something to come back to. We joked once that I was a figment of your imagination – you’ll see my whole life in that apartment, if you want to, so you can always be sure I was there. I hope it might be a place you can call home – a place where you can be yourself.

My love for you Florence, is eternal

Yours, forever

Chase

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