I had this going for a while, but I only just decided to publish it. It's so much harder to put down on paper (well, not really paper but you know what I mean) and I hope you enjoy.
It's hard to write this, harder than I thought.
I knew I was going to die, as my precognition legacy showed me one night. But I was too much of a coward to tell you.
I like to tell myself that it was because I didn't want to hurt you, though I know that is a lie.
But it's a small one.
It's true that I didn't want to hurt you, I never meant to and I hope that you are not sad, because that would make me sad. And even in the afterlife, I wouldn't want to be unhappy.
I don't know if what we had was love, but I do know that when I was with you, I was the happiest that I had ever been.
I know that I loved the way you laughed, the way you treated everyone as if they were your best friend, even the way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
Butterflies were always there in my stomach when I was with you, and I always felt brilliant, even though we were in the middle of a war.
I wonder if that is what Reynolds felt like when he looked at Lola, if he felt as if he would do anything for her, because that is what I feel about you.
I didn't realise at first, but you were the only person that I could trust fully since Reynolds death, something that I had missed. When he died, I closed up, and knew I could never be the same.
Then you came, with Ella and Six and I felt happy for the first time in years, because I had found friends. When you found my chest, as you probably remember, I kissed you.
To this day, I don't know why I did it, but I'm glad I did. And in New Mexico, you returned the favour.
I couldn't stop smiling afterwards, although I wouldn't let anyone know that.
I have to say, that I regret not kissing you again. There were so many times where I got close to telling you how I felt, on our walk in Chicago, when we had finished looking through our chests, or even one of the many times we were alone in the penthouse.
But I never did, and for that, I am sorry.
I wish that we had had more time to be together, and figure out if it was love. And now that I am gone, I want you to know that I am so happy I met you, and I wouldn't change anything we had for the world.
What I am about to say may sound weird, especially after everything I have just told you, but I hope you understand.
I want you to move on.
I'm not saying forget me, but I'm not sure if you liked me as much as I liked you anyway, and more than anything in the world, I want you to be happy. And I know that greiving over me will not help that.
I hope you find somebody that loves you as much as I did, and yes I just said it. After all this letter saying whether I didn't know or not, only when I get to the end do I truly realise.
I love you Marina
This sounds bad, but I was crying a little even when I wrote this. I hope that it wasn't awful and you don't think 'why are you crying, you can't even write!'
Anyway, it's even more depressing that I publish this on Christmas Eve, I seriously don't know what is wrong with me! I am so totally not in the spirit.
After all my rambling, please read and review :)