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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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300 Letters - 23. Letter 22 (She was really rude)

2.11.2015

Dear C,

How are you doing?

I hope you are doing well and catching up on everything you have missed out on when you were in the hospital.

I miss you dearly and I really wish I could be there for you and enjoy those moments with you too.

I received an email from Kasia today, a very long one. She basically told me off for being weak, for loving you, for caring for you and for being a total fool. For allowing you to break my heart. It did hurt really bad when I was reading it. For a moment I thought she didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. And I don’t know why.

I totally understand how pissed off she must have been with me for partially leaving her in this mess.

You have no idea C, how grateful I am to her for everything she has done to me. She stood by me all the way – when the lights went down and I was left alone. You left me, but not her.

I should never forget this.

I know that you two don’t like each other anymore – it seems like you actually hate each other now. It hurts me to see that you guys cannot bury the hatchet. Life is way too short to be like that.

When I was reading that email from her, I realized how deeply she hurt me by the way she spoke to me, using really harsh words. She was almost rude. I read the whole email 3 times. Finally, I came to some conclusions. She is partially right. I agree that I have to get back to life. I have to move on. But I do not agree with her saying that I am stupid and weak.

Yes, I know I need to find the strength in me to carry on here. I need to learn how to fight for myself now. It’s gonna be difficult. Now with your birthday approaching and Christmas around the corner… But I will try.

I am so tired of taking all these antidepressants. I am so fucking tired of the pain in my heart.

You know Kasia advised me not to call you on the phone for a year or so, so I should heal faster. She is very convinced that you will be 100% healthy soon, that you will find someone very soon and will forget about me. And I will be here all alone thinking about you. But I don’t know if I can just stop communicating with you – just like that like you’ve never existed. Especially on your birthday and Christmas.

Lucia, on the other hand, told me that I should try to stay connected with you. To make sure that you know I still care and love you. I do care for you my love and I do love you so, so fucking much. Like the biggest idiot, but I don’t care.

Here, life goes on very slowly. Each day is like a week. I have passed my oral English exam today with ease. And the teacher tricked me to do a written exam too saying I can pass better than anyone else. So I agreed. The results will come soon. I was also told I must prepare the PowerPoint presentation on a specific subject of my choice. Others were given the option, I was told I had to do it. After that, I will be moved to the advanced English classes. Whatever.

Art is going well too. I keep painting my trees. I make them so colourful. It makes me forget how dark the world inside here is.

Ok baby, that’s all for today. Please look after yourself there in London. I so wish I could hug you right now. Without saying anything, just hug you and feel you.

I love you.

Forever yours

Sebastian

Copyright © 2018 Sebastian Bauer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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