Goodbye letter.

Goodbye letter.

It seems all so far away now; the times you told me you loved me, the times we laughed. I remember them, but memories fade. I have travelled far, I searched for places where I could maybe drown my sorrow. But I didn’t find comfort for when I got home, I still thought of you. Before I leave this world, I need you to know a few things: Before I met you, life was dull, but I did not mind because I didn’t knew life yet. Then, you came along, with those eyes, that smile. I would’ve never thought you’d kiss me that night. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a lifegiver. I was born that night. For weeks I was living a dream, it all seemed to good to be true. But it was true. Well, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoke to you one day, I called you but you didn’t awnser, I went to your place but you wasn’t there. I was a bit worried but I was still oke. Then, a day turned into days, days into weeks, weeks into three months now. I just want to know, where are you? Why can’t you give the only awnser I need? Or, why did you leave? It is all pretty messed up.

Well, my love, you will not see me again. This life has no use for me anymore. I was born when you came, I died when you left. Did I say something wrong, because that is how I feel. Remember our song; Yesterday?:

Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

I doubt you remember it, I doubt you even remember me. I doubt you will even take the time to read this letter. I hope you do though.

I wish you luck and love.

Love,
Mary.

Tom stopped reading, his eyes filling up with tears. He had read the letter for six times now. He screamed out load, hoping Mary would hear it in some strange way:”I would love to awnser you, but I don’t have the awnsers! Well, I left because I had too.” He fell to his knees, his head in his hands. He mumbled: “I do remember, I remember you, and our song. I remember it all to well.” He stood up and took his mobile phone from his bed. He turned it on, for the first time since he left. Ninetyfive missed calls, it said. He dialed the number he still knew so well.

“Hi, Mary’s mother here.”
“Hi, this is Tom, can I speak to Mary?”

The women sighed sadly.

“Haven’t you heard yet, Tom?”
“No?”
“Mary died”

She had hung up. Tom cried.