Fiction

Dear Michael

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Dear Michael,

By the time you receive this letter, I’m probably far away. I can’t tell you where I am, but trust me it is somewhere good. I’m probably lying in the sun while reading a book or drinking a margarita. Yes, a margarita. I haven’t had one for a really long time because doctors said I shouldn’t drink. You even gave up your wine in solidarity with me. But I’m drinking margaritas now, and you should pick up a bottle of wine for yourself as well. Now that things are almost over. There’s no need to hold back anymore.

First off, I wanted to say I’m very sorry. I knew you probably panicked when you couldn’t find me. I hate to leave you this way, but if I ever face you, I would never be able to leave and you would not let me go. I didn’t leave you because of anything you did. I left because I chose to have the last few days for my own. I’m selfish and I’m eternally sorry for that.

Next, I wanted to thank you. Thank you for everything, Michael. I’m grateful to have met you, to have live my life with you, to share every meal, to cuddle on the same bed, to have you on my hospital bed side. You know I’m not a religious person but I believed ever since I met you. How could I not? I met an angel and I felt in love. A literal angel from heaven. The ones that people often seen drawn naked in fancy art museums. That would make anyone change their minds.

Michael, you are the best thing that ever happened to my short little life. You are my dream, my love and my life. I don’t know much about all the rules of Heaven but I knew you had to fight to be here with me. Then, me, being the selfish jerk I am, had to get sick and wither away. I didn’t want you to see me in the last moments of my life. I didn’t want the last image of me you see as a living person was on a cold hospital bed. I wanted you to always remember me as the young, bright 18 years old girl you met in front of Central Park. I will live a short life. But you, you’ll live for eternity. When I die, everything ends with me. But you, you’ll have to carry the image of your love dying in your arms. I would rather not, for both you and me.

Michael, take good care of yourself. Love yourself, love someone else. Find peace in the pain. May God give you a blessing. Please forgive me and forget about me. In the end, we were just a moment in your eternity.

Love,

XXX



This little quick write was a response to the Tuesday Writing Prompt of the Go Dog God Cafe. Such a great prompt this week. https://godoggocafe.com/2020/09/08/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-september-8-2020/

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