Topic: Letters to Sebastian

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-02-19 13:12 EST
The wandering was starting to get to her. She had decided to keep it in the house mostly, but the walking around and around with nothing but her own thoughts...

And then it came to her.

She slipped into the bedroom as silently as she could and sat at her writing table. The candle she lit to write by was bright enough to do the writing, but not so bright as to wake the slumbering Sebastian.

Fountain pen dipped in her signiature blue ink and... she started scribbling.



Dearest Sebastian,

You want to hear everything I feel and hope and dream and want, but I can't bring myself to say it outloud. Talking about my feelings goes over as well as... well, it doesn't go over so well for me.

So I'm writing you a letter.

There are many problems with this letter. First being: You can misunderstand it. Unless I am there to interpret and answer questions you may not know what I mean. Just, keep this in mind, nothing I say is against you. These letters... because I think there will be more... they are making you my confidant. The one I go to when I need someone. Anyone. I am just better with paper than I am with words.

But, you may ask, how can this work? How can you tell me such serious things without speaking? And I would tell you that I am speaking. That each scrawly line on this paper is as true as a whispered word over a pillow. Though, those would probably be more disjointed and less sincere. For me, I speak in writing.

Most of the things I will tell you, I have probably admitted to no one. These pages, left for you, are my only outlet. Use them well.

You are my only. You are the person the universe chose for me to, god knows what I'm doing.... And I have so much to say. I'm so angry at the world, Sebastian. The hate building up in me is something I am unfamiliar with and scared of. I'm scared it's going to take me over and make me bitter. I'm scared you'll see it in me and hate me. But it's there. An overarching anger that dictates so much of what I do. You've seen it... how I get so mad at things that mean nothing. It has nothing to do with what you've said or done... it just tapped into that anger with the world. With God.

I fight it, and fight it, but I think the only way for me to be sane. Normal. Is to embrace it. Work through it. And that's what I'm starting to do. I told you I threw the Bible out the window... but really, I'm fighting with God. It's time we had it out-- me and him. I don't want you to hate me. I just need you to stand by me, while I work all this out... Things have been hard on me. Which is no excuse for how I've been acting. I know. There's a lot of things... I'm scared that I'll lose it again... That I'll disappear into the darkness and you'll do the same thing Richard did. Withdraw until we don't even know each other anymore.

Storm, it just... it wasn't her time, Sebastian. She was so young and beautiful and full of life. She was my friend and a good friend. She would look out for me even if I thought I didn't want it. She would talk about silly things and laugh with us. She was one of my friends that Lydia liked and we could be together. She was more than someone to bat around silly jokes and pretend to be madly in love with. She was someone I had a real connection with. It's so rare... especially here... to have someone who understands or at least tries. I only have you and Lydia and I had her. Why? Why did this have to happen... and just the day after we were all so happy together... Why would God do this? To someone as pious and good and attentive as her? It's not fair.

She made me that teapot. And I broke it. I brake everything. I destroy all I touch. I've destroyed you, haven't I? You seem so much more...angry than when we first met. I transfer it all to the people I love. Loving me is a dangerous thing. I can't blame you if you need to get far far away from me.

I can't blame you if you hate me.

I guess that's enough for one letter, huh? I'm back where I started... and well, I guess I hope you I don't know. I don't know what I hope, really. Just that I needed to tell someone and you're the person I trust. The one I can share this burden with.

I love you.

Yours,
E


The paper was folded in a threefold and left on his nightstand. Now Erin could sleep.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-02-27 05:34 EST
That morning Sebastian would find another letter all folded there on his night stand. She, shockingly, would be asleep.



You fell asleep and I'm watching you. You're peaceful... your breathing is slow, and your chest moves just slightly. Your hair is too long, and it glows in the candle light. It hurts to watch, but I can't look away. I could have lost you tonight. I don't think I would have made it through that. I dont think you understand. Sure, you thought I was overreacting. Being as worried as I was.. and sure, you thought I was under-reacting, when you told me the story, but Sebastian...

It was the way you looked at me when you came in. I thought for sure everything was going to change. I saw in your eyes a hopelessness that I only felt when I read about Storm.

I don't want you to die inside like that. I want to see you happy and alive and mine.

Tell me what to do to keep that in you. Tell me, and I'll do it.

I often wish I could sleep at night. The quiet and the dark makes me feel alone. And scared. I feel like the world is crumbling around me. People stop by at night. I know you know that, but you never wake up. They talk to me, get some coffee, move on. It's comforting. To know that others are out there in the darkness of it.

Things have been so bad. Are so bad. They clench at my heart and I'm afraid if I stop moving I will die. Sleep is too still for me. I know you want to hold me still to see me. Make sure I'm still there for you. And it scares me.

I know that I have wants that are unrealistic. How much I wished you and Lydia would get on. How much I want you to be friends with Everett. My dearest friends. My strength outside of you. How I wish you could all be in the same room and things would be normal. Be good.

I try too hard. I push you. I know.

I'm sorry.

I am so glad to have you tonight. To have you every night. That despite all this gloom and the fact there is little to do about it.. you're there.

I know you can heal, Sebastian, but what if one day it's too much.. just.. please. Try not to put yourself in dangerous situations all the time. I like that you can help, that you can play hero, but... I want you to come home to me. Every night. For as long as our lives allow. I want it to be a long time.

Much love,
E

PS. I know this letter is a mess. I was too tired and whatever to really edit it...

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-03-10 07:52 EST
Erin couldnt' remember when she had gotten home from the inn. She was in a daze, really. But she found herself in her bedroom alone. Staring at his things... For a long while she layed on his side of the bed. Breathed in from his pillow. Cried hot tears that stained it and made it damp. Fingers ran over the sheets, all full of him.

It broke her heart.

She started to work before he got there. Before his things dissapeared, their things dissapeared and it would all be over. A wonderful dream gone wrong. She stole a shirt. An oversized sweatshirt that still had the scent of his cologne lingering on it. And a book. Something silly and common. His copy of Lear . The cologne itself... she poured a little into a bottle, hiding it away. She may need it later...

Erin walked the floor boards of the house in bare feet. She wandered around and around. Touching things... remembering things... the tea set she made him, the dress he gave her... the little things. And she cried. She cried unlike any way she had before. She let it all out. All the tears hidden away, all the feelings she didn't let herself to feel... all the things that got her where she was.

She sobbed, she wailed, she fell to the hall floor and curled up in a little ball whimpering. Erin let herself destruct. She let herself come apart. Finally.

It felt so good. It felt so cleansing, to just finally let it come. Why didn't she do this before? Why didn't she do this -with- him? He would have helped her; he would have loved her. But now she was alone. Alone in the big stupid house... alone in her life.

After awhile. Maybe an hour, maybe more she stood from the hall floor and sneaked back up into the bedroom. She lowered herself to sit at her writing table, took out her fountain pen and inkpot and began to write...

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-03-10 07:53 EST

Sebastian

I just... I guess I figured I should write this letter to you... I don't know. I wasn't sad when you left, because I was so mad, but the longer I sat in this room... and drank and... you're really gone. I am such a fool.

I hate myself for doing what I did. The way I did it... I was just so confused and upset that you were mad at me for no reason again... but I guess you had a reason. You had the perfect reason. I was a terrible wife to you. I just don't know what to do to make you happy. I think I do, and I just fuck it all up. I'm just.... you're really gone.

I know you love me. I don't know why I had to question it until it made you go away. I know that I just anger you because I can't keep my act together. Depressed over nothing, upset over nothing... couldn't see how good I had it through the fog that was this stupid illness. This stupid brain. I let everything people said about you creep into my brain and make me doubt. I let everything I ever heard from my mother just tear me apart... that I wasn't lovable, that I was selfish and mean, that I was wrong and bad and... I drove you away with it. I let them all ruin my life.

I guess I'm incapable of being happy. Incapable of accepting and understanding a good thing. What I would do to turn back the clock just a few months. What I would do to be back where we started and just change things.... I suddenly can't stop crying. I suddenly can't get some certain things out of my head.... I just... I want... I would do anything to go back to the moon bounce at the carnival. And rolling around... and getting you with the dunk tank... and... I want myself at that time. I want you at that time. I never doubted anything then.

How did I get here? To make you hate me like this? I don't know, but it happened... slowly, I guess. I always said I destroy everything I touch, and I did it again. I want to talk to you. I want to lay myself at your feet. I want... so many things, and I don't even know how to start. I don't even know where you are.

It's ironic that this is what broke me out of my depression really. Made me understand how babyish I was being. What hell I put you through for no reason at all. I hope I didn't ruin you. I hope you can go on and find a sane wife just as beautiful as you think me, one who can listen to your poems and love them as much as I do, but be sweet and kind about it. One who lets you lavish her, because god knows it was the best time of my life... one that smiles and cooks and cleans and holds you all night while she's actually asleep. One that can have babies for you to fill a house and treats them with tender care, and lets you tuck them in at night. A wife who never drinks and always dotes. A wife that can love you and let you love her. Everything I was not.

You deserve all that. You deserve it all and more. My dreams of being that person for you... I've let them go now. I know I can't do that. I can't let you love me. I'm too scared to let you love me.

I won't beg you to take me back. I respect you more than that... and no matter how much I want to kiss you one more time, hold you one more time, or smell you as you cradle me in your arms, I won't ask any of it from you. What I wouldn't give to have you in my bed right now. What I wouldn't give to be able to make things right.

I have no point to this letter, I guess. Just my way of telling you that I know I was wrong. That I know you never did anything but try and make me happy. That I'm a different woman because of you and always will be.

I never thanked you... for taking care of me after the rape. It just... it hurt too much to say. Unable to work through it... knowing that it's the reason I'm behaving the way I am now... but, Sebastian, Bastian.... you saved my life. You held me back from the brink and were the best person for it. Every night you whispered in my hair, you held my hand, you stroked my face, you took me for walks on the beach, you... I can never thank you enough for it. I can never thank you enough for saving me. For loving me. For being mine.... Just for that brief second in time....

Try and forget the end. Try and forget the terrible fighting and the horrid mood swings I put you through. Remember me before it all changed. Remember me before the darkness seemed to win. Part of me does still just want to die. Empty my veins on the floor here, that maybe it would make all my wrongs right-- but if you taught me anything, you taught me to keep fighting. I love you for that.

I'm afraid to stop writing, Sebastian. Terrified. Once I sign this piece of paper, it's goodbye. I can't write to you anymore, I can't talk to you anymore, I can't love you anymore... and that is the only hopeful place left in my heart. I'm afraid that I can't live without you... I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid. You're going to read these rambling letters and toss this in the fire. You're going to think I'm lying, or stupid or... god, please keep loving me. Maybe I can stand being apart if you can just keep a little bit of love alive in your heart. if I can know that we'll never truly be completely separate... that you are my husband.... you always will be. I don't think I can ever love again, be loved again. That is a role made just for you. That is something I gave up with my actions.

I don't want to give you the ring back. I can't bring myself to take it off. I don't want to change my name back... I can't stop thinking of myself as your wife. Did you know I felt this way? Will you ever know now? I guess you'll stay in touch with Cassie, and maybe she'll mention it someday... but know that it isn't sad or pathetic that I will never really get over you. Know that it's a testament to the promise I made to you. Know that I won't let my words die like that. Even stupid and young and nervous and scared; I meant those words when I said them to you.

I meant every breath, every vow.

I'm going to try to be the woman you fell in love with. I'm going to rebuild myself from the ground up and make myself stronger and safer and... then one day I'm going to come looking for you. And I'll show you that it doesn't have to be this way. It doesn't have to hurt so much. And on that day, you'll take me back. Because you'll know in your heart this was what was supposed to be. This was what we were made for. And things will work. I'll be able to cook and clean, and we'll get a smaller house in a better place in town... we'll spend all our time together listening to opera and I'll let you treat me the way you always wanted to. You'll finish your opera and a collection of poems. Perhaps be published.. and I'll be knitting and sewing and drinking tea by the fire... I won't need anything but you. We'll look back at this as a time when I was sick. As a time when everything was wrong... and maybe someday you'll laugh and kiss my forehead and tell me that you're so glad I fixed myself. You're so glad I made myself worthy of you again. And we'll get old together... knitting and writing... and our children will become adults.. and time will go on, and then finally when it's time for me to die, it'll be in your arms. It'll be knowing that I was made for you all this time. That I did the right thing by not giving up, that... I'm such a stupid fool.

Really, you'll move on... and find that perfect wife.. and speak of me to your family as that glorious mistake. That beautiful catastrophe. You will tell your son about that time you went to the far away place through the wardrobe and met this beautiful woman that could only hurt you. That you think of her sometimes, but never truly fondly. That you wonder if she's still alive, still unhappy, still ramming herself into walls. That your wife, your real wife was the best thing that ever happened to you. And everytime someone calls my name, you'll turn around... horrified it will be me back to ruin your life again.

I need to do this. I need to say goodbye. I need to let you go. I love you so much that it's the only thing I can do. It's the only thing I can give you anymore from my selfish broken self. Sebastian deVernon. I love you. You are the only man I have ever truly loved with my entire self. You are the only person I will ever love with my entire self. Someday I hope to show that to you. To make you believe I believed you. But until that day, goodbye. Be happy. Smile and laugh. Forget me. Please... forget your stupid wife and her stupid selfish ways... please... god, please... Forget it all.

With all my heart and soul, forever yours,

E

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-03-10 08:09 EST
Erin folded the letter and slid it in an envelope. "Sebastian" was scrawled on the front and she let it sit on the desk in front of her. Where would he see it?

She took a deep breath to steal herself and slowly but surely left the bedroom. She made it down the main stairs and then to the basement door. Her hand trembled as she turned the knob, eyes clenched shut. She wasn't sure she could do this... there would be so much of -him- down there.

Slow and careful steps took the stairs one at a time. Closer and closer to the bottom. Soon she'd have to turn the light on... once she was on the bottom floor, she reached up and pulled the string. The room was flooded in light.

Erin gasped. It was like looking at her husband in the eyes. It was like stepping foot into his soul. Why had she never spent time down here? Why had she never really support it the say she should? A slow walk around the room, letting her fingers trail over sheets of music, beautifully placed notes... torn out poems and broken pencils... the violin. It was almost as beautiful as him. Almost as charming. She let her fingers run over the strings, and very lightly plucked just one. Closed her eyes at the sound.

She couldn't do this... The note was placed very carefully against the violin. He'd have to come back for this... he'd have to see it. She hoped he would at least read some of it.

She prayed.

In this moment, Erin forgot her argument with God. Forgot all the blame and the anger--there wasn't room anymore. She got on her knees in front of the violin protecting her letter. In the room that was the embodiment of her husband. The embodiment of the man she had pushed away with such percision...

And there she prayed.

Erin did the entire rosary twice. Without the beads. She prayed to as many saints as she could remember, she prayed to God and Jesus and Mary. She spoke to God, she forgave God, she asked for forgiveness. She purged her soul of every stupid, selfish thing she'd ever done. She confessed every sin. She spoke to the violin as if it were God himself. She begged and pleaded, she reasoned and cried... She let it all out.

And there, on her knees, on the concrete is where she resolved never to do this again. Never to hurt anyone like she hurt Sebastian. Never to let herself become so blind and depressed and self absorbed to hurt the people she loved.

I made a promise to you... Speaking out loud to the room as if he were there to hear it. I promised you forever, and I'm going to keep that promise. I'm going to love you and cherish you forever. Wherever you are. You'll always be just a little in my heart. Someday you'll see. I'll come back to you the woman you married. I'll come back to you the woman you deserve. I promise.

Erin stood, her knees red and bruised. She looked around one more time, fingers running over papers. She wished she had a copy of the poem he wrote her. She wished she had a copy of so many things... she knew he wouldn't leave them for her. She knew he wouldn't leave her anything when he went... it was too late for that, she'd made him too mad for that. Erin memorized the room. Every nook. She wanted to see it in her dreams. To see him in her dreams...

A copy of the Communist Manifesto caught her eye. It was on the floor by the bookshelf. A few short steps and she went to pick it up. It was hers. She cradled it to her chest for a few moments, reliving the day. Reliving the passion and the love there... remembering it. She could feel his lips on her skin.

Fingers ran over the book cover. She caressed it as if it were a lover, as if it were him. And then, very gently, she placed it beneath her letter. She'd leave it for him. Maybe he'd want to remember to...

Wishful thinking.

One more glance around the room and she shut off the light. A little piece of her died as she did it. Suddenly it all didn't seem like it was going to work out anymore. A shake of her head and she climbed the stairs, walked through the hall and back up to the bedroom. A shirt of his, carelessly discarded in the rush to bed, was scooped up off the floor and she curled up on his side of the bed again. And there she lay, clinging to his shirt...

Remembering.