𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟷𝟻 ; 𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟷𝟻 ; 𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕

Dear, Lawrence                            December 2, 1889

It's gone downhill so fast. Why? Why would you do this to me? You're selfish Lawrence. Do you know what would happen to me without you? I couldn't do it, I cant, I won't. Why would you ever do this.. think I wanted it. To be fair, why would I do it to myself? I can't handle the mess I've gotten myself into anymore and all I want is to travel back in time to when I kissed you last and instead just hug you, tell you goodnight. Then you know what could've happened? I could've sat next to you at dinner and talked to you and held your hand under the table and act like I wasn't holding your hand, just like this morning. I can't now though. I'm stuck without you and I'm terrified because I haven't been without you since I was a child. I love you now, Lawrence. I always have. I don't know what's wrong with my timing but goddamnit don't leave me like this....

I'll figure it out, Lawrence. I'll get you back and then we can be together, all I need is to gather up the courage to tell you. Because you know what you said? You said you couldn't handle it anymore because you 'couldn't hide your feelings'. Which means you have feelings in the first place....

Lawrence, I love you. I'll figure it out, darling. Don't worry.

Love, Tate.

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

"Go away." I say and it rings through my ears like a bell was just rung and it's echoing and echoing. I can't get it out of my head. I can't stop regretting that I said it...

I know it's the best for me which is why I did it.. but
that doesn't mean I don't still want you though Tate.. I can't not want you.

I want to hold you and kiss your cheek and hang out at the train together and have you walk me home from work while talking about fate and souls but I can't without thinking of how I love you and you'll never love me back.

I don't know if you understand how bad it hurts to see you fall for another girl everyday while I've sat here for 21 years.

Remember when dad took me and you on a trip to New York City and I had just told you I wanted something with you... and you rejected me, and then you pointed out every girl you saw on the street that you found attractive. You'd get all red Tate.

I was right there...

Why didn't you point towards me..?

I don't want the bells in my ears to echo anymore so I just cover them but I still hear him muffled through the padding my hands created, just to say, "Okay..." in the most deflated tone.

I just can't do it anymore, Tate...

I'm sorry.

After a minute I hear the outside door close behind him, so I slowly stand up and dust my dress off. I step out the door to sob to myself on my bed and see a note, sitting right on his trench coat that I left on my bed.

'keep it.'

Is written in hurried and rushed handwriting all over a piece of coffee stained paper my sister had in her journal.

I didn't know what importance it had but I wanted to keep the piece of paper.

And I would keep the jacket...

He'd worn this jacket for so, so long. Every time I saw him he'd be wearing this jacket and talking about how warm and nice it was in there.

It was warm...