Hey.

God, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

You and me. Together.

I don’t mean to sound desperate. Really, I don’t.

I suppose I just wanted to say…

Thank you.

For us.

For everything we had.

Even in this goddamned wasteland

you still gave me that little spark,

that little flicker,

that maybe,

just maybe,

we wouldn’t fade away

like candles flickering feebly in the nighttime.

Do you remember how young we were?

Sprawled out on the backseat

of what used to be a car

while destruction raged and carnage bloomed around us

and all we did

was raise our heads

and count the stars.

We watched as the heavens rained hellfire upon the earth

and we caught the flames in our palms

and whispered secrets to them.

I saw stars mourn the deaths of their sisters

and I saw the fall of God himself.

It was sad,

but with you,

it was so,

so beautiful.

I can almost see you.

Like a cloud lingering in the darkness,

like an invisible constellation.

I want to reach out and touch you.

But I can’t.

I was the knife and you the whetstone—

the blade without the stone becomes dull

and the stone without the blade has no purpose.

But I’m okay.

I know you are too.

I don’t even know if you can hear me.

But I just wanted to say—

Thank you.

 

Goodbye.