Monday, 14 October 2013

The Second Letter: The Bitter End of A Relationship

Following the mysterious and somewhat chilling letter I published last week, a second letter appeared on my desk again from 'Dominic' to 'Mia,' and a photograph; I've published both below. 

The story between these two people becomes clearer and is most poignant. If you know anything these people, please enlighten me... I am not sure if they are real or fictional.
N P Postlethwaite

Dear Mia

Grief is a funny thing. It rises like the strong wave of a tide and when it hits, it leaves you breathless; then it ebbs away and you forget your loss for a short time. But today the emotional pain feels more physical - more tangible somehow; I suppose it’s reminding me I’m still here.  

I want to pick up from where we left off but I know I can’t. The last few days have been a total blur; time seems irrelevant when I have no future. 

You have been so silent these last few days; I can see you’re scared by the life growing inside of you, but do you really have to look at me with such cold resentment? I can’t have that you see – I can’t have you poisoning our child with hate through your womb as she grows - poisoning our child against me. 

That is why I’ve made my decision, Mia; this has to end - whatever it is. I’ve made this decision for her, so she will never know how much you hate me for changing your life, for stalling your ambitions, and making you share me. 

I want you to be kind to our child Mia - if you’ve got it in you. I want you to love her well and tell her the good things about me and how we fell in love and were happy in the time that we had, before it all turned sour. Every time I left, I know it killed something in you, Mia, I know, but please leave that out.  

I bet you never knew I could read your feelings so well. Well, I could spot them welling up inside you before you even knew what they were. 

I know your disappointment, Mia; I know you wondered what life would have been like with someone richer, cleverer or more handsome than me - someone that was there for you all the time, who you didn’t have to share. I know you wondered how you ended up being with me, Mia. You don’t have to say it. Your silence speaks volumes. 

Yet Mia I love you. I know sometimes the most beautiful things in life are the ugliest. I’m glad to have known you and loved you, but you know this has to end, before you completely ruin me, and I you.


N P Postlethwaite's novel, The First Sense is now available 

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