Eren Yeager had always been a child. From birth to the day he died. He lived with a selfish, childish dream to find freedom. Yet, freedom was a manifestation of his innate desire to fill the boredom swallowing him whole. It killed him.
But before t...
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Dear Eren,
I don't know if you ever listened to my advice and wrote letters, but I hope you did.
I find them quite pleasant.
Sitting at my desk, the candles in my room are blown out. The smell of smoke lingers in the air, and I find myself remembering you.
It's been months since I last saw you.
Wherever you are, I hope you found your freedom. I know how much you desire it.
You were an open book to me. When I first met you, I found myself intrigued. I loved books, you see. They helped me delve into a world that did not expect anything from me.
I gathered the knowledge of hundreds by flicking through pages of black and white. So, when I met you for the first time, I knew then and there I wanted to know everything about you. It wasn't hard. Knowing you. Discovering every little thing you hid behind a carefully constructed blank-faced facade.
Although you didn't speak much, your eyes spoke volumes. If I'm being honest, I laughed at that. Volumes. Some books come in volumes. I hope you appreciate the pun.
I recall you telling me you could never understand me. I don't blame you.
I never understood myself.
But I think I've figured it out.
When I turned sixteen, I ran away from home. It's laughable, really. I didn't know where to go, I simply ran.
I ran until my legs couldn't take it anymore, until my muscles burned, and my skin itched a solemn red. I found my way to an old hospital, and when I peeked inside, I saw the horrors of war. Injured soldiers, injured civilians, injured children.
That was when I decided to become a nurse.
Albeit, I wasn't made to care for people.
I was made to kill them.
Trained from a young age— a warrior candidate. My father forced me to become one, forcing me to gather some influence and recognition for our family. I hated it. I hated how good I was at slaughtering people. I absolutely hated it. That's why I ran away. I didn't want to take the lives of people— who was I to play the hands of the divine?
The yellow armband sits on my desk.
A reminder of my inferior status.
I hate this place, Eren.
I'm sure you realised that.
I've never been happy here.
I wanted so much to sprout wings and fly with the birds. They were my best companions growing up. My sister was too young to understand the torture we Eldians went through. She didn't understand. Simply because she remained ignorant. I don't blame her, though. My mother taught her to be so.
So, I relished in the friendship the very beings I envied gave me.
That is— until I met you.
Sitting on a wooden bench, I got to know you. A soldier who came from war. A soldier who still remained in the echoes of it.
It turns out, I wasn't the only one envious of birds and their ability to fly.
On this wooden bench, where we have now carved our names, I got to know you.
On this wooden bench, I watched the stars and talked about the wonders of nature to someone I began to care greatly for.
On this wooden bench, I had my first kiss.
On this wooden bench, I watched the sun set on the most beautiful pair of sea-like eyes I will probably ever see.
Your eyes illuminate like refracted crystals. Although they have dimmed with the signs of trauma, I know that your soul is set ablaze with life and the need to survive: the harshest softness, the most careful of violence.
I feel as if I might burn if I get too close.
You could tear me apart if you wanted, and I'd thank you. I think you did.
You were like the birds. You sat beside me and listened to everything I had to say. Even more than that. I spoke about everything and nothing with your presence enveloping me.
Right now, the world is dying outside my window. The ground shakes with the thunderous footsteps of gigantic beings.
They look like humans; I would never dare call them monsters. Monsters kill for the sake of pleasure and enjoyment. I have a feeling that these titans are moving with the compulsion of someone else.
Something tells me you play a role in all of this, Eren. Only you would go to such extremes, you know? You always have.
In the short time that I got to know you, you went from stoic to emotional, from cruel to kind, from sad to happy to sad once again.
You held me close in your embrace once; I felt the tears streaming down your cheeks when we embraced in such sinful ways. Under the cadence of twilight, we intertwined in a way that transcended vulnerability.
Eren, I'm jealous of my senses. I truly am. To me, the air is the colour of gardenias and your smell that was once on my shoulders is slowly disappearing. I want to remember it. I never want to forget you.
It all lasted a couple of minutes— us. We were so afraid of getting caught, of falling deeper into this fiery barrel of hunger, desire, need and want. Desperate for touch.
Words vanished from our minds; we seemed to forget the purpose of air as we admired each other's appearance. I laid between your arms, and all we had was a couple of minutes before we had to separate. It all lasted a few minutes before you slipped through my fingers, cutting off the enchanted sensation I have always desired.
You've left me empty, my dear. It lingers deep in my bone marrow. You've taken something from me, and I haven't the faintest clue what it is. I assume it's my soul.
It has to be.
It's the only thing missing.
Eren, I'm afraid for the future.
I know you never intended to stay in this world very long. But you and I are in it all the same.
I have spent what feels like an eternity sinking, falling, drowning— in an endless void that sees me, knows me...consumes me.
I never dared glance into the abyss, and it never stared at me. I know that our deaths will not be a gentle sacrifice. This abyss will devour the world and its inhabitants; our offerings of flesh and blood and bone, of life and heart and soul, willingly, unwillingly, peacefully, violently, defiantly given— our offerings will not go to waste.
That's why for every shard of fear that lives within me, I am confident all the same. We will meet again. Be it in hell or heaven.
