Dear Foster, (a letter that will never be sent)

Dear Foster, The last time I was soothed with your gentle presence, the comfort of your existence, your luminous blue eyes glistened with unshed tears that would never caress the gentle skin covering your sun-kissed cheeks. My eyes searched desperately across your guarded facade, your freckles creating lovely, intricate patterns across your face which did nothing but remind me of the star-filled twilight. You couldn't bring yourself to look at me, and my heart clenched with a sickening stab of pain. However, that didn't change the fact that even in that moment, you became my undying universe. 

Our story is one of passion, pain, and arduousness- that fact is undeniable. However, I believe that it is what built us, pushed us, to want to change- to live, rather than survive. 

You were a living ghost, a foreign soul lost in a sea of angels, whilst I was a spiritualistic visionary. You seemed to camouflage yourself into your surroundings, deeming yourself invisible. I, however, saw you clear as day. You were enigmatic, and for a while I struggled to piece together a clear image of your true self. Nevertheless, I began to take notice of your pain, the small things that would otherwise go by unnoticed if the observer wasn’t watching with genuine interest. I ascertained the way the spark vanished from your eyes when nobody was looking, the way your smile grew smaller with each passing day. I examined the way your once exuberant laugh was more of a rarity, and how you began to stare more at your shoes than the jubilant sky. The sleeves on your shirts grew longer, and I found myself wondering if the reason you kept scratching your wrists was because of a rash, or something even more sinister.

I could see you fading before you even knew you were gone.

Foster, I know that I’m probably overestimating the situation, but when we talked that night- the last time I saw you- did you observe me the way I did you? Did you see my suffering reflecting through my features? My pain? 

Did you know that I was just as broken as you were?

Let's face it, Foster. We were never meant to be together. We were both so obsessed with our own suffering that we needed to fix ourselves before we could support one another. Our temporary paradise of an ill-fated love was undeniably an escape from the prisons that we desperately, unsuccessfully, sought an escape from. 

Our love was a wildfire, destined to burn everything in its path. And as much as we tried to ignore it, to run from it, to fight it- we smelled the smoke before we saw the flames. 

Words are not enough to describe how much I miss you. How much I miss us. But we can't change the past. 

I hope you know that even now- three years after you left this chapter of your life behind on a trail of broken, forgotten, and misshapen memories- I haven't, for a single second, forgotten you. 

I loved you, and...I'm beginning to think that a part of me always will. 

I hope that wherever you are, you're happy. Maybe one day our fates will entwine once more.

With high regard, 

     Jules.