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Finn
Week One Without You:
Dear Gem…
I didn’t sign up for this shit.
I wish this existence had a customer complaints department. I wish there was a hotline I could call or a manager I could talk to. I’d demand a refund on the fucking nightmare that is life without you.
You’ve been gone for a week, and the sun hasn’t shined once. We’ve had rain every day. Every. Single. Day.
It’s like the world knows what happened to you.
It’s like the sky is sad, too.
Everyone’s been smothering me with attention since that night. They’re all worried about me. Asking me if I’m okay. You faint one time and people mother you forever, I swear.
The doctor said my body couldn’t sustain the adrenaline, the smoke inhalation, and the shock of watching you bleed out, which is why my ass went down like the Titanic.
But I’m better now. Physically, at least. Ruben’s been sending me inspirational quotes to cheer me up, and, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, today’s quote made me want to gag.
“We always have something to be grateful for.”
That’s the quote.
Bullshit, I know.
It’s nice of him to try, but the only thing I’m grateful for right now is Joel dying in that fire. Sounds harsh, but it’s true.
They found the son of a bitch’s remains a few days ago, and I’ve been wondering if I should feel guilty. The cops said I did what I had to do. They said I was just defending myself, and while I technically didn’t kill him, I also didn’t get him out of the house.
I left him there.
To burn.
But then I remember what he did to you.
And just like that, my guilt evaporates.
I’m not even sure why I’m writing you these letters. It’s not like you’re going to read them.
Not yet, anyway.
The doctors are going to keep you in a medically induced coma a little while longer to reduce the swelling and inflammation on your brain. They said the blow you suffered to the head caused a traumatic brain injury, and while you’ll most likely recover, there’s a chance you’ll be a completely different person when you wake up.
I’d much prefer option number one, but I thought I’d write you these letters just in case things don’t go our way.
Maybe they can trigger your memory.
And if they don’t, we’ll make new ones.
I love you.
- Finn
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Week Two Without You:
