Dear John,
I'm leaving. By the time you get this, I'll already be gone.
I feel terrible doing this to you. I feel even worse because I'm breaking a promise I made to you in good faith--several, in fact. I wish it didn't have to be this way, so suddenly and unexpected, but there's really no choice. It just does.
By this point, you've probably got my engagement ring back in your pocket, and my finger is empty. That was the first promise I broke--I can't marry you. I know I said--but I can't. You understand, don't you? I hope so, so very badly that you do. You were so sweet and strong the night you asked me--I can still almost see your face, John. Maybe someday, mine might fade from your memory. I can't lie to you, I hate that thought. I want you to remember me like that, when we were happy and in love--not like this. Not like me leaving you.
And I am leaving. I can't stay but another moment or two--then I have to go. I know you; at this point you're probably frantic and panicked and dearest, I am so sorry. I know you would follow me if you could, but--I don't want you to. I want you to stay, and live your life, and just be happy. You might wonder how I can possibly say that when I'm saying goodbye like this; but you can. I pray you'll find somebody else, someday, who loves you as much as I do. And John, I love you more than life and death. I always have, from the first autumn I saw you. It's just not enough to keep me here. I wish it was.
Do you remember the hammock under the double oak? That's where we made that last promise--the last one I'm breaking today, very soon now, I think. I told you I'd always be here, as long as you were too. Don't hate me for lying to you, dearest. I didn't know this would happen. And I fought so hard against it; but in the end, I don't think I'm strong enough to stay. And I can't ask you to forgive me for not holding to my end of our pact. I can't ask you to forgive me for leaving you forever. I can't ask you to forgive me for dying like this.
My moment is over, John. I love you. Remember me.
--Kirra
12 comments:
It's morbid. I didn't mean for it to be morbid. That's what happens when I'm in Cell and Molec.
This is so sad.
I like the way it's written, and I like her sincerity, but IT IS STILL TOO SAD FOR ME. I mean, I write sad things but golly, this is just like the point was to depress Robby Van Arsdale.
See, it was supposed to sound like your typical, I'm-breaking-up-with-you, Dear John letter. Somewhat harsh, somewhat grating. You weren't supposed to get hit with the waterfall of sadness until the very last few lines. But then again, all breaking up is sad. I could rewrite it, but I felt like...how'd you put it..."Making you cry tears of blood."
*bwahahaha*
What promise did she break under the double oak? Why is she leaving?
This says everything and nothing at the same time.
Is it weird that I don't find this morbid at all? I didn't feel sad about it?
They weren't married. Clearly, they weren't right for each other. Sure, it hurts to break up something so important, something they thought was going somewhere, but they gave it their best shot and it didn't work, and she's leaving before the real lifetime commitment, before the two became one.
I cannot understand why she left, and she sounds super melodramatic when she says she loves him "more than life and death" (because obviously this is not true, because she's either choosing a life without him or a death without him, and she seems to believe that he cannot be happy without her, so leaving him is a very selfish thing to do-- she's clearly thinking of herself with the whole "it's just not enough to keep me here").
Also: If you do not know that the information you are imparting is untrue, are you lying?
Oh man, I'm sorry. This letter is so perfect because it sounds exactly like what people actually would say. So . . . it's well done, but I still don't really like it? That says more about me than about you.
Well, I didn't cry tears of blood, primarily because I rarely ever cry, but I was surprised by the ending, and I liked it. It really did feel like 'oh, this is lame, it's a break up letter. whoopie -_-" until the end. Well done :)
Haha Janelle...she's not leaving him...in the traditional sense...instead, she's dying. (The morbidity). That's the point of the last line of the last paragraph...I shouldn't have made that point quite so subtle, I guess.
I was just thinking about this today, because people promise all the time that they'll never leave you...but what if they have no choice? To give your word on something that you can't control...wouldn't that be a lie?
And so I was wondering what a "Dear John" letter would look like if you were dying instead of breaking up. Like what your last thoughts would be if you were Kirra, and you only had a few moments left.
Hence, the reference to death.
That was epic. Incredibly written. Not going to lie though, my eyebrows shot up in surprise and anticipation when I saw "Dear John." Then I realized it was spelled wrong.
Seriously, epic. Has all the qualities of a good tragedy, suspense, heartbreak, unmet desire, and of course death. It depressed me, therefore brilliant.
Yes, but why is she dying? It sounds like she's choosing death.
"To give your word on something that you can't control...wouldn't that be a lie?" <That makes sense.
My guess is that in a sense, she is choosing death. More accurately, she sounds like she is giving up on life, like a terminally ill person who has just stopped fighting, despite a promise to never give up. It reminds me of a poem that I remember from my grandmother's funeral called "Remember Me." Almost an apology for not being able to survive, yet a call to go on, a call to persevere.
Goodness. I never knew there could be so many interpretations before. Heavens! So, as much as I dislike recommenting on my own stuff, one last thing--
Storyline in my head--she was in an accident. Narration is occurring as they're pulling her out of the wreckage, strapping her to a gurney, and taking her into the hospital. She's not really awake, but she knows she's dying; you can do that, you know. You can feel your heart falter, and she knows what's going to happen--and she fights it--but sometimes, fighting isn't enough. And these are her last thoughts.
Hmm. Interesting.
Final, pointless comment:
I have only written one thing that generated "opinions" and "views." But THOSE ARE THE BEST KINDS OF THINGS, I think. They are my favorite, anyway.
So the fact that we forced you to "recomment" is a good thing.
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