Dear Edward,

I find it funny that I only work up the courage to write to you only when lying in the hospital, waiting for my time to go into the next abyss. The only reason that I am able to write to you now, is because I persuaded the nurse that I wasn't as frail as the vase right next to me on the stand. I honestly do hope that I don't look that bad. Yes, my hands are a little bit wrinkled but honestly, who cares?

I know that I will be gone by the time that you will read this letter. But for old times sake, I will ask you some questions.

So. How are you?

You don't have to answer that one.

How is everyone else?

Good, bad?

Maybe that is really not working out. The casual approach didn't work. But I wont go wasting the one sheet of paper that I had to pry from the nurse's hand.

I guess I should start with the absolute truth.

Today is my ninety-eighth birthday.

I have had a heart attack, and heat stroke.

The only reason I am able to see the sunlight today is because of the brilliant doctors that are keeping me alive for no reason. For them I am grateful. Eternally grateful.

My job had been a photographer for a big newspaper, although the name seems to slips my mind. I started out small, taking only shots of the city and its people, covers for boring politics magazines, advertisement.

Then I was introduced to the amazing world of traveling photography, and I was off around the world, taking shots of everything. With these pictures, I became prominent in the business.

I remained anonymous. My projects became grander and grander. I shot warzones and starving children. I shot the North Korean landscape (barely got out too). I shot the ice of Antarctica and in the white inhabitants. I captured everything I could, of the beauty and the ugliness of the whole world.

I received praise for all of the wrong reasons. No one ever got the underlying message. Ever.

No one understood or will ever understand that in all of this chaotic beauty, I was searching for someone. Maybe not someone but something.

A family.

A friend.

You.

Yes, yes, now I remember. I was searching for you.

Now, I will say it as loud and as clear as I can.

I am madly in love with you. I always have been. Almost to the point of insanity.

One, though, cannot go on such adventures without learning something. I learned that in order to let go you must learn to forgive. To forgive yourself, to forgive the ones you lost. And then you will find the closes thing to serenity. I can't say that I found serenity but I found hope and happiness.

People ask me, am I lonely?

I never answer properly, but for you, I will make an exception.

I have never been lonely. When I fall asleep, I hear your lullaby. I feel as though you have been watching me, protecting me from the inevitable end as long as you could. This is the best feeling that one can have. Loneliness is something I have never felt before in my life. There is only one last thing that I have to say right now.

Thank you. For giving me your love. Thank you.

Bella

Authors Note: An idea that has been bouncing around. Counterpart might be coming soon (Edward POV). So please leave me a note. Otherwise, thank you for reading.:) Sorry for any mistakes, this is un-beta'ed.

Disclaimer: Anything publicly recognized is not mine.