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Letters- Part 6 of 10

Dearest Reader,

Why must you obsess over such meaningless tasks?

Why can't you just do what most other women do and assume he no longer enjoys being surrounded by your presence? Why can you not just allow your mind to accept maybe he thought you weren't good enough?

How do they put it these days...? Not for him?

Why must you assume, unlike every other female, that he is lost and looking to find his way back to you?

For the first three days I watched you frantically hold the phone to your ear, listening to the dial tone drone on and on, till his phone lost battery completely and your phone connected directly to his voice mail.

I watched you think, rolling ideas around in your head.

Was he no longer interested? Was he giving you the silent treatment?

What was it that had drawn him away when mere nights before he'd seemed so caught up in you, desperate to be close...

Then your little brain decided there was something wrong.

Three agonising days of watching you suffer later you realised maybe there was something more to this than just his disinterest.

I watched you closely as you met up with his friends, who had not heard from him either.

I watched you start placing missing signs over every silver traced pole in that little city area we had sat together in minds but apart in body.

You destroyed our peaceful place with photos of him.

I watched you stress, anxious and unsure.

I watched you pick up your phone and dial the police, your tired legs pacing around your worn kitchen tiles as your mind patrolled through a mass of ideas.

But the worst pain I have ever felt was watching your face when the police came to your doorstep to tell you.

To tell you he had committed suicide, their approximation being on the night you went on that stupid irreversible date.

I watched your hands as they came up to cover your shaking lips, your eyes screaming in agony more than the sound that came out of your mouth.

Such pain, in such pretty brown eyes.

I hate to see you in pain.

I hated watching you lie in bed, for a further three days, barely moving to eat or drink, like he could have possibly meant that much to you.

He was just a mortal man, my lovely lady, he could never have provided you with all of himself, something I know you crave unintentionally.

He meant nothing.

It was never going to work between you.

I don't blame you for his death, not at all, my love.

His death was his own fault.

Yes, my two hands did the deed but in reality his love sick puppy attitude was what got him killed.

If he had never had tried to pursue you, if he had of just let you go, knowing full well you were more than his sorry worthless soul could have ever deserved, he may have lived.

But instead he led you on, making your innocent heart believe that maybe you could be something.

That night I followed him home, he did not fight me, he knew there was nothing he could do.

It was his time to go, he knew he had made a mistake in chasing your love, and in his final moments I could feel his regret and his sorrow.

But I do not blame you for his death, you were just the last pill that caused his overdose, a trickle of a taste of something better than the bland ailment he'd previously been drinking.

All mortal men desire what they do not have, but most men know the difference between what they do not have but could have and what is definitely beyond their reach and limitations.

He did not.

His death is not your fault, nor mine, it is his own, the fault of a heart wanting love from a god who does not need his pathetic weeping.

You are that god.

You are my god.

On the fourth day, when you finally dragged yourself out of your depressive state and back into normality was the day I realised, you are more than I first made you out to be.

You are stronger than I ever thought possible.

Your heart although weakened in trying times is strong enough to accept what happens-happens for a reason and move on, one step at a time till it is completely mended.

I commend you on your strength.

I hope you truly understand that in killing him I was helping us, and who we are, together.

He was merely a speed bump in the road to our inevitable happiness.

You have to see that right?

Despite all the times you have strayed from your path to your destiny; I still love you.

Every time you have considered walking a different road I have gently prodded you back onto the one that finishes with you in my arms.

For this to happen you need to belong to no-one but me.

I hope you understand that it is for your own good. No man on this earth could handle the entirety of you, no man but me.

We are destined to be one, forever, till the sun explodes into millions of particles, too with it destroying everything that makes you, you, and me, me. Till the day where we no longer become separate beings with separate hearts but instead become one mashed up glob of perfection.

Till that day we will always belong to one another.

For every day that passes brings us closer to complete belonging, where I can place a ring on your finger and call you mine till death do us part.

Till then I will continue to watch you, to study you, to learn from everything you do, to learn what you hate and what you love.

I will continue to save you from ill-chosen mistakes in men who will never show you the commitment or never ending desire that I can show you.

Your Secret Admirer

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