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Dear Dabi, My love, Touya,
What should I do about the place in my heart that you filled? What do I do now that you’re not here to fill it? Do I let it collect dust, or do I try to find someone else to fill the space you carved for yourself? Sometimes I lay awake at night on my back (I could never do that before), stare at the ceiling and wonder what I should have done. I thought I could trust them, that you were wrong and they were right (They raised me, of course they were right. Right?). I miss your heat next to me, and your piercings in the light. I miss the breakfasts you would cook me after a hard night at work, and your friends who became like a family I never got to have before. But I ruined it, and now the few times I can bring it on myself to wake, my bed is cold, and my apartment is dull, and my cupboards are bare beside random protein bars, and they’re all gone.
I thought I was right (Was I ever right?). I gave them the information they wanted (They didn’t know about me and you, and the family we all became). Sometimes I wish you had finished the job that day (My therapist says I’m lucky). Some parts of me are gone now, things that can’t return (I’m still lying on my back), things I wish to let go (What should I do with this empty space?). I know I was meant to be the fastest person alive, but how did I lose you all so quickly? (I just wanted to slow down, just for you).
I met with my friend today. She’s happy I’m alive. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I had burned like I was supposed to. I wish I could talk to the young girl who became your little sister, one more time (She’s gone). I wish I could talk to the boy you argued over the switch with like your sibling (He’s gone). I wish I could talk to the man who acted like the parent I never seemed to deserve (He’s gone). I wish I could talk to the boy who taught me that who I am was wasn't wrong (He hates me). I wish I could talk to the man who taught me to play cards (He hates me). I wish I could talk to the man who played chess against himself (I killed him). I wish I could talk to you one more time (Your funeral was months ago). I wish I was strong enough to tell them no (But I didn’t, did I?). I’m sorry for everything I’ve done (Sorry doesn’t erase the past).
My therapist says it’s not my fault (She’s deceitful, I did this to myself). You said I could be free from them (They own me, I’ll never be free in this life). I hate them for what they made me do (But I hate myself more). I want this to stop. (The balcony’s not designed for a bird with no way to fly anymore). I wouldn’t go that far just because of some dead villains (Wouldn’t I?). I’m not a danger to myself or others (I can’t lie to myself like I can to others). People would miss me (Or would they miss who I used to be?). I am myself (He can’t come back, he’s dead). I am not a weapon anymore (He’s always going to be there). I can look after myself (I’m worthless without a way to soar).
The balcony doesn’t call me anymore. (Liar)
I don’t need a lock on my medicine cabinet anymore. (Liar)
I won’t do anything reckless anymore. (Liar)
Therapy is working. (Liar)
I am okay. (When did life feel like a burden?)
I'm happy that I still have a job (They took my childhood from me, why would I stay?)
But the emptiness grows day by day, and I don't know who I am anymore (You're gone).
I guess what the truthful thing to say is, I’m done with everything. (Just do it already). I want to see you all again, just once, but I can't. I won't.
I guess this letter thing has gone on long enough, hasn’t it? (There’s so much to apologize for still). If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll see you soon. I should start this over, so here we go.
Dear Firefly,
I love you. I'm sorry.
Your ‘angel’,
Hawks