Dear Lily,
There's a picture on my bedside table of us. You wrapped up in my arms, pre dying your hair, laughing and smiling, and me doing the same. We were so happy together.
What happened? What made you think that suicide was the option to go by?
There were so many things I would have done differently if I thought this was going to happen.
I'm such an idiot.
I find myself crying randomly, staring into space, forgetting to do things. I forgot to eat yesterday, and today I forgot my car keys when I went to the car.
Things have been in disarray since after you left. That's how I'm going to put it. You left. You're not gone. Just not here. And it's depressing me.
There's been therapist referrals arrive in the mail from my friends, people showing up at my house (my friends and parents, mainly) bearing food and come to try and help me.
None of it's working.
I remember how I hadn't heard you laugh properly for months before you left. I don't know why I didn't try harder. I should have tried harder for you. You deserved the world and I gave you a single grain of sand. Only a fraction of what you should have gotten instead.
When you go to friends and family, they'll tell you it's not your fault.
When you go to therapists, they'll find ways to prove it wasn't your fault.
But when you ask yourself, well, the truth really comes out, doesn't it. Deep down I know it was my fault and that I could have prevented it. And I'm so sorry I let you down.
Love from,
Andrew
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Lily
Short Story"Why did you leave me," I had cried. "Don't you dare leave me lonely, Lily. Don't you dare." But you had already left. --- The story of a man, written in letters, falling into the abyss of grief. Inspired by Hotel Ceiling by Rixton
