My Angel | lrh ✔️

•Dear Luke•

Dear Luke,

You always did tell me that Heaven is a wonderful place to be.

You never quite told me what it took to get here, though.

You were always so, so sweet to me. Even when I was just a little girl, you were so patient and caring and understanding. You picked me up when I fell down, looking out for me the way you thought I deserved to be looked out for.

I guess I owe you much more than a letter. I owe you so much more than a letter.

I owe you the world. I owe you a hug, a kiss, I owe you all of my days apologizing for pushing you out of my life.

I never quite knew what you were to me, Luke. Mum and Dad said you weren't real. I didn't believe them one bit, because I knew for a fact that you were. They just couldn't see you like I could.

I remember my eyes falling on you for the first time when I was five. You were sat on the roof of our house, and you had these wings. They were big, and so, so beautiful; bright white feathers that flowed effortlessly in the wind whenever you moved.

I asked you what they were when I scraped my knee that day in the park, when Calum pushed me over. Do you remember that? I hope you do, because it was the first ever time you told me who you really were.

You said you were my angel. And I said, "Thats cool. Can you fly?" and you did. You knocked into a couple of branches, and almost hit your head on the roof of the porch, but I was awestruck all the same.

Then, when I was ten, nobody showed up to my birthday. I noticed that, Luke, and I guess you were hoping that I didn't.

But to be completely honest, I didn't really mind. Not one bit. Because the only person I hoped would show up, did; and that person was you.

My first heartbreak was hard, and I bet you remember it as much as I do. It was with my first ever boyfriend- this guy called Michael. God, I loved Michael, as much as a fifteen year old could love their first boyfriend.

I came home crying. I saw you on the roof, yet again, staring at me with shocked eyes as I threw a mini-tantrum on my way upstairs.

I cried myself to sleep that night. To my parents, I was alone in my room, sobbing into my pillow. But to me, I was with the most important person in my life, their arms around me, pulling me in close; that person was you.

Fast forward, five more years. Twenty. I was finally twenty.

I was your age, Luke. I was finally twenty, the age you were and always have been, and I was so happy. You came to college with me. You packed my stuff with me. You even helped me avoid any potholes on the way to campus.

God, I was so in love with you. I fell head over heels for you, and it's been like that since the age of sixteen.

We were doing so well. It was like our own little fairytale; you had me, and I had you, and it'd be like that. Forever and always.

But then the cold nights came, and the days I'd spend fretting over bills I couldn't afford, while you could do nothing but give me hugs and uncertain words of encouragement.

We fell apart. As much as I hate to say it, we did. The world around us was crumbling, and it was just you and me, and we were losing against all odds. It just didn't work.

We couldn't make it work. As blunt as it is, we were never able to.

I was alive. You weren't.

So I did the only thing I could. I stopped believing.

When I was younger, I asked you why my parents couldn't see you and why I could. You told me that it was because I believed. You said that it was because my imagination was so much more vivid than theirs- and that my faith was very much alive.

So I stopped going to church. I stopped praying before bed every single night. I even stopped using the phrase "Oh my god", just to get you out of my head.

And it worked. I think it worked a little too well, for although I could no longer see you, I couldn't feel your presence, either. It was as if you never existed.

I was distraught for the first couple of days. It was like saying goodbye to a part of me I always held onto. It got easier, though. I went out, made some friends, talked to some guys. But I'm guessing you already knew that.

You were there on my first date with Ashton. You were there when he proposed to me on the day of our four year anniversary. You were there when I said yes.

I don't really know what else to say. I have nothing else to say. But this letter, this mere piece of paper, has a majority of my heart spilled out on these very pages.

This is the last thing I'm going to say, before I send this off officially.

I saw you, Luke.

I saw you when my eyes began to close. I saw you when the monitor beeped, ending my life and putting a halt to my heartbeat. I saw you when the nurses panicked about the life growing inside of me not being able to make it, and I saw you as I left my body behind.

You were always there. Looking after me, caring for me, loving me unconditionally. And I did the one thing you hoped I'd never do.

I made you believe that I didn't love you back.

But I did. Oh Luke, trust me, I did. You were the one that built me to be a better me, the one who showed me what the word "love" was all about.

I hope that you're doing well. I hope that you're happy, wherever you are. I only ask one thing of you, one meagre condition- and that is to read this, because this letter contains everything I didn't say.

Thank you, for everything. You might have already moved on, given another soul to look after, but to me you'll always be the same.

You'll always be my angel.

Love,
Jenny.