How Do We Pretend Everything's Alright?

[Jetta Van Patten]

July 2, 1882

Charlie,

I write this with a heavy hand and an even heavier heart. This journey we've been on for the past few months has ended the only way I could imagine it to-with myself out of the picture and your child in it. And I say your child because he or she never belonged to me, he or she always belonged to Eurydice.á

You broke my heart, Charlie. You took it, you tended to it, and then you smashed it in a way I never would have dreamed of. I hate you for hurting me so, I hate how you chose her, and more so I hate myself for not believing such words to be true. I love you. I have always loved you, even when you came to Italy I loved you-even when you admitted that you had chosen her. I wish I could hate you.*

I don't blame you, I want you to know and believe that. I don't blame you for your decision, just as I hope you don't blame me for mine. I'm going to go back to Italy and I'm going to live with Darrien. Maybe, if I give it enough time and the chance, I can grow to love him the way I love you.

It's funny, you know? After what happened with Elena I never thought you'd be able to truly open your heart again. I thought that you'd be recluse, and so I thought it was safe to fall for you because you'd never return that love. But then you told me you loved me, and I felt like running. I didn't want you to care for me as I did you because nothing could ever come of it. We're of two different worlds, and those two worlds should never collide.á

It has been months since we last spoke, months. I lie awake at night wondering if I should owl you because the baby is moving and I want you to feel it. I want to talk to you, I want to be near you and be close with you once again, but we can't. Because you picked her. Because you love her more than you love me. Because being near you, and being close to you would kill me inside. I want to talk to you again as we used to, but I won't because I can't trust you anymore with the key to my being. You'll just throw it away again, and I'm not sure my heart could handle a third rejection.

Why didn't you pick me?* Why did it have to be her?* Why didn't you pick me instead? Why wasn't I enough for you?

You know, when I was younger I used to dream of a prince coming and rescuing me like in all the tales we were told. I fell into the trap that one day I'd make it out of the slums, that I'd be meaningful to someone. And then you came into my life, and you showed me that maybe you were my prince. I thought that maybe you'd be the person who rescued me from my tower and showed me the meaning of true love. But you weren't him for me. You were never meant to be my prince, for you're Eury's prince.á

I might as well have been working for my sister for the little that you seem to have cared for me.*á

You're going to have an excellent life with Eury. You're going to marry her, raise this child with her, and grow old with her. And everything will be perfect, just as it should be. And I truly hope that one day I can experience that myself. I really hope that one day someone will love me more than they love everyone else.

That's my only wish. I want to be someone's first choice. I want someone to propose to me and love me and want to marry me. I don't want to be your second choice. I don't want to be compared to people anymore. I want someone to love me and to pick me if they ever had to chose. I can't compare to the people you tried to compare me to. I'm a stationary star in a sea of shooting ones. No one notices the stable stars. It's only ever the glimpse that people pay attention to.

Maybe in another life I'll finally be the shooting star, rather than the stable one.

This will be the last time I willingly think of your name. I don't want to feel the pain anymore. I don't want to feel as though my heart has crumbled inside my chest and is now pressing upon my other organs. I want to be happy and carefree. I don't want to wonder if anymore. "If you loved me most." "If she didn't exist." "If I hadn't gotten pregnant." "If" "If" "If". I hate that word. It's such a two faced thing that shows the hope of tomorrow long lost.á

Please take good care of your child. Please raise him or her well and love him or her and care for it. Raise him or her to be strong, and independent. Raise him or her to care deeply for others. Raise him or her to stay true to who he or she love so he or she never has to experience the pain I feel. Just raise your baby right, Charlie. If you owe me anything it's that.á

Maybe fate will bring us together again one day, though, for the sake of my sanity, I hope we do not. Be well, Charlie. And know that you were the light at the end of my tunnel, at least for a short time. Now, I simply have to find another light to guide my path.

Sincerely,
Jetta

* denotes a sentence heavily blotted out with ink to be unreadable

  

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