Dear Marco...

Dear Marco,

Hello, I guess. I feel kind of stupid writing this letter. I mean, you're dead. I can't just forget that. The doctors are making me write this. They diagnosed me with depression a few days after you died.

You died. I still don't believe it. Its been a fucking year and I still don't believe it. There are so many things you never got to hear, never got to know. I guess I should write them down now.

First of all, I'm sorry. If I would have been there a few minutes earlier... I could have saved you. But when I saw you, you weren't completely dead either. I sang to you until you died. Remember that? The song was called I Won't Give Up. Here, I'll write the lyrics.

I won't give up on us

Even when the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

I'm sorry for the tear stains on the paper. I couldn't help but cry. You only ever saw me cry once. When I was singing to you. I wish I could have stayed strong for you, Marco. I really do.

I also want to say that I love you. I left a zillion little hints, but I don't think you ever caught on. You were always so oblivious. It was so cute.

But seriously, Marco. I wish I could have just told you before... You know. I really hope that you're having fun up there. I'll join you someday. I've tried to join you. I've always been stopped, though.

They take away my blades unless I'm fighting, and they've had to stop me various times from jumping off the wall.  Once I even tried hanging myself, but Mikasa and Armin found me before I could.

I know you wouldn't like that. So I haven't tried again. It's been 7 months sience the last attempt. Because I realized that you wouldn't want me to do that. But in all honesty, life is not the same without you. I know you'd hate to see me the way I am right now.

I have horrible bags under my eyes. I don't sleep most nights. They think I have insomnia but it's just the nightmares. Of horrible, horrible things. My clothes have also become baggy. I often forget to eat, and only eat when I am reminded.

I constantly have tears falling down nt cheeks, no matter what. People come visit me sometimes, to see if I'm ok, but they find it awkward. I don't talk that much anymore. I know you'd hate that, but I can't help it, really.

The thing is, I know you'd hate what I've become. But I can't help it. I wish I could. I wish I could be happy, and move on. I know that's what you'd want. But I just can't. It's harder than you'd think.

But I'm trying. I'm trying to get better. It may take a while, but I'll be better one day. Just like you would want me to be. I love you, Marco Bott.

Love,

Jean xoxo ♡♡