There are unfinished stories lying in my room, they were our stories. Old pages just dying there, red ink seeping off the faded parchment, words, memories, history. Just disappearing. We were lost. Some stories never written, it was too hard. It hurt too much. Things I never got to say, written down. Letters I never sent. Answers I would never get. We fade with time, from words from forgotten memories we’d rather forget than keep. Those words I could never forget scared into my memory, ‘I would write about you, about us’. Somehow time forgot, we were lost in decaying pages. In the years to come I would remember us, how we were in the books I would write. The tragedy that we were. The tale that would become us.

I always knew I would write our story, but I never thought it would be so difficult to write down, the memories we had, the kisses we shared, the love we had. The lies we told, the promises we could never keep. The hearts that would soon be broken and the one that would never beat again. Our story was never an easy one; it was rushed, messy and too painful. I put myself through hell for you. I wrote the story I think we could have had, if our timing was different. Maybe in another universe, we end up together. Maybe in another life we were not just stories written among pages of lost love and tragic ends.

I wrote the story of how we died; did Shakespeare take you first just to spite me? There was no heaven or earth just the myth of fate. I know I will write about us, the way we met, the long full looks, the playful smiles, the forbidden kisses, our tragic downfall. The letter I wrote of our ever dying love, the reply that never came. Our fate wasn’t kind; we both knew that, we knew it would be difficult. We were against two different worlds, against ourselves. We were against the gods, the prophecy. As kids we were told our love could overcome anything. Our history would be repeated, it would be for centuries. We will be remembered as the lovers who overcame fate but at the cost of themselves.

I hope history will tell her I’m sorry for all the things I could not do, for all the things I never said.

– but i guess somethings are better left unsaid, but you were everything to me then.//t.c