It’s Leslie. But of course… I don’t need to say that because I’m the only one who calls you Kev even though your name is Gavin. I know I shouldn’t be writing to you since you called it over six months ago. I know what you have in your mind… you’re probably swearing when you’re reading this, thinking, here’s the obsess woman again who wouldn’t let you go for breaking up with her.Here’s another letter again that I sent for the 100th times. But Kev, don’t exaggerate. This is only my 17th letter for you this month. Yes, I counted and memorized all of the letters I sent to you because every letters took an ounce of blood and sweat for me to write, despite knowing that you would never read it and will just throw it in a trash bin near you. NO… don’t scramble this letter yet because only to you would I tell where my body could be found when you received this letter. So please, hear me out…let this letter be the last one you read.
If you’re wondering why this letter is too red to read… it’s because I wrote my own blood carefully to write my last letter to you. I remembered your favorite letter was red. I remembered how gorgeous you looked on our first date when you were wearing your red shirts and tan shorts. I didn’t forget the first flower you gave me was a red rose and the first shoes you ever bought for me were also red. So let this last letter be in red.
And If you’re curious why there’s too much smudges, I’m sorry but I couldn’t find a straight surface to write because I’m laying in a dark place and I can’t see much. But I tried to write the best way I could. I’m finding it hard to breathe. It’s very dark and tiny here, but I know that I would fit because I once hid here when we played hide and seek one time. This is the most romantic place to die, and it would be the most romantic death if you were the one to find me. And I made sure that only you could find me.
I know that you were out of town on weekends and that’s when I decided to come here last Friday. I bought a blade to cut my legs for my ink… I cannot die without finishing my letter first. I wanna make sure to express that no one would ever love you the way I have loved you.
Throughout the years I’ve loved you from which I could remember since I met you, life has taught me so much; I learned a lot. I understand more than I could ever admit. Now that I’m older; I ought to know better. Why the need for love if it hurts? Why hurt that person you love? Why need to be hurt at all if there’s love? The longer I spent time with you, the more questions I have; too many questions, so little answers. Doubts were the reason you left me, the reason I cried every night, caused of too much pain has led me to the pit of hatred; where no lights can be seen and you weren’t there to help me up from it. I tried to shout and used all the voice I have but I could only hear my echo repeatedly saying I need you.
There’s a way to get out nevertheless I’m blinded by my overwhelming feelings for you and only you. No love feeds my heart full and care that satisfies my thirst like you do. My soul ran out empty until only despair is left to move me. Fear of rejection has stopped me from asking you for help; For I was more than twice disappointed from the love I asked for; tired of looking pathetic, oh that shameful look. Every time I ask for something you can’t possibly give. I tried to fill this loneliness by loving someone else. I forgot I was the one longing for it, needing it.
My need for you is like water that kept drowning me until I couldn’t breathe no more; I have lost my energy to fight, all my will to survive. This pain is so deep, I wished it could stop. Why, even death is the only escape I found. This isn’t the solution I want but at least it would stop, Stop the anguish of grief, and hopefully loose the love I have for you. I can no longer bear this torture you have for me, this persistent need can only be fulfilled by you…and only you.
I’m slowly losing my consciousness… probably because I’ve lost too much blood by now by slashing my wrists. It didn’t hurt after all. It was scary at first…but then I got used to the blood and the anticipation that when you get back here, my blood would be all over your hands, it was enough to excite my blood from squirting. Now I know how a single blade could be so sharp to take one’s life slowly but I could feel happiness will be with me soon because a world without you is happiness.
If you’re still wondering where I would be found, why don’t you look inside the big trunk in your closet, where you said you put those toys that you valued when you were young? I decided to die here because I was only a toy to you, after all. I had put my last energy to get this to your favorite white suit so you can notice the redness of my blood once you get home and go to your closet to change. I will carefully lock the trunk while waiting for my last breath to stop. I’m a bit worried though, on how would I look after two days? Would I look as ugly as you made feel or rotted as you left me?
I hope that when I’m gone, all of your memories will be gone too… only then would I have found real peace in the after life.