Just a little exra that isn't actually a part of the story bc i couldn't fit it in :]

Dear Whatever The Hell Your Name Is,

How's all the necessary information you never share treating you? Are the secrets burning a hole in your pocket, through your tongue, into your brain, setting you on fire? I need to know because I need to know how to put my fire out.

I guess the real question is how do you handle being alone, being without your other half, knowing that you'll be empty for the rest of your life because of the decisions you made? How do you wake up in the morning?

I need to know because I'm empty now. And alone.

I don't have another half. I'm made of thousands of tiny pieces, and they've been pried out of me with tweezers one by one until I'm echoing with unusable space. How do you keep fighting when there's nothing left inside to fight with? When your heart isn't strong enough to keep pumping blood and oxygen through your body anymore?

You've always called yourself a mentor, a teacher, a guide. Guide me. Guide me even though I will never get the answers to my questions because you won't be getting this letter.

It's okay if you hate me. I'm a distraction to Sophie, after all. Not because she likes me (she doesn't. I'm the empath.) but because she's always worried about me.

Not to worry! I'm taking the you approach, and I'm not telling anyone anything ever again. Easier for me than it is for you, I suppose, since I'll never see anyone that will understand my secrets again.

No one knows yours, either. Not even the people you're supposed to trust. I guess it's hard to give away the remaining bits of your soul when there's already less than half of it gone. I'm trying to untangle my thoughts to arrange into words but they keep getting mixed up.

You're better at blocking your emotions than most people. That's true. But I'm a better empath than most people. So I know you're proud of me for being brave. For still fighting.

I bet you're disappointed now. I'm done fighting. In Sophie's letter I told her running away wasn't the same as giving up.

I was lying.

From,

Keefe