Letter Eleven.

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- Listen to the song on the sidebar as you read this letter, it accompanies well. -

Bradley;

This morning was a struggle. I was fully, undoubtedly, alone.

The boys were called to a gig at near enough the last minute, and as much as they tried to convince me to go, I refused. They offered to cancel the gig and stay home with me, but I couldn’t let them do that, could I?

I remember when you used to do that. Whenever I fell ill, you were adamant you weren’t going to leave my side. You’d lay with me as I tried to sleep away whatever was troubling me, and I’d wake to see you in the exact same position you were before. One of your arms would be wrapped around my waist from the back, tracing patterns onto my skin. Your other free hand would be intertwined with my own. You would rest your forehead onto my own, and soon enough your heavy breathing would match my own.

But now, there’s no alternative. I sit alone in the living room, in your favourite jumper, twirling one of your favourite bracelets around my fingers. Silence is a blessing for some, those with hectic lives, people to see and things to do. For me it’s a curse. It reminds me of you, and only you. When we were together, there was never a silent moment. Whether it be the exchange of those three words, or hitched breathing as we embraced each other’s company, there was never a moment that wasn’t full of affection. I could hear it in your unsteady breathing pace, as your hand would cup my cheek and you’d lean down to kiss me.

Now, now what do I have? Pure, uninterrupted silence. The universe mocking me for something I should have prevented. I should have been there, I should have looked out for you like you looked out for me.

Do you remember the time we visited your parents’ house for the very first time? When I was shaking like a leaf and you did your best to comfort me. I remember every word you said to me as we walked up the front path. Every syllable was thoughtful and considerate, you knew how tough it would be for me.

Not two hours later it was like I had a second home. No longer did I only have my broken past, I had you, I had everything you had. Your mum would share the baby stories you apparently begged her not to in advance, and you would try to hide behind Nat. Your dad would join in, sharing embarrassing memories of when you failed at auditioning for various sports teams, and the stupid things you did as a young child. You blushed after each one, and I would laugh. I would smile, feeling completely at ease for the first time in forever.

You must have sensed it, as I could tell how gleeful you were yourself. You would smile at me, and wrap an arm around my shoulders, then place a gentle kiss to my forehead. We would be asked about our future, and on every occasion you answered the same. You would look down at me, and softly say the words that made me want to fall in love with you all over again.

My future is you, and only you.

Being alone, Bradley, it gets harder for me. I turn to thinking about what could be if we were reunited again, would you still love me? Care for me? Maybe there was something I did that would make you want to give it all up. Maybe there’s something I could do to make things right, although I guess I can’t exactly tell what ‘right’ is anymore.

You were my guiding light in life, my love, even if sometimes you dimmed. Like the time you had booked a dinner at a restaurant a few miles away, but then forgot how to get there. You scratched the back of your neck nervously as you had to tell me the news. I didn’t care, I honestly didn’t, Bradley. Although you still might not believe me, I didn’t. I meant what I said to you, I meant every single word.

I could only sit around for so long. Communication with the outside world was an alien concept to me now, you were the only thing that made me feel part of something, a community. And without you, what am I? Wherever you go, so will I. I’m with you up there, my love, can you tell?

Hopelessly Devoted - Bradley Will Simpson.Where stories live. Discover now