I’d walk through battlefield after battlefield strewn with bodies and blood to have one last moment with you so I could tell you the truth.
I love you.
I’ll die loving you.
The day I placed that tattoo on my flesh, it was the day I married you. In my heart and soul, you were my chosen.
You were my everything.
That was my vow to you.
I’m sorry to dump all of this on you, but you likely won’t read these letters anyway. I only wrote them to look back at my selfishness and stupidity and to hurt more.
That’s the only thing I can feel anymore.
PAIN.
I have to hurt myself to know I’m alive. I’m so numb and lost. Nothing numbs the vast truth that I fucked up. God. I fucked up so badly that there was no way to fix it.
You walked out that door and became a ghost.
So one day, I’ll become one too.
I’m sure I’ll wander the heather-filled fields and still suffer. My soul will likely keep searching for its other half. Even in death, M'eudail, I want you to know that you were my whole world, and I lost seven precious years because of my mistake.
Are you married and happy?
Do you ever think about me?
Well, I hope you are married and happy. I hope you moved on and you never dwell on us. That’s what I want for you. I love you so much that I pray each night as I’m on the cusp of death that you are at peace. You deserve it. You deserve love, and I’m sorry I wasn’t man enough to protect you and give you what you needed.
I know you wanted to be protected, and I dropped the ball. I hurt you, and I’m sorry.
That’s on me.
I hope you have little wee ones running around your home, and kissing you. I hope you have a husband who looks at you with awe and love.
I pray you’re happy and safe.
That’s my final wish for you, D’Artangnan.
When you hear of my death, don’t mourn me. I deserved it. I deserved to die alone. For what I did to both of us, I’ll never forgive myself. If I wasn’t such a coward, I’d end it on my own. Until then, I’ll hope and pray the universe has mercy on me.
When I’m gone, look at the bottom of this box. I left something for you. Throw it out, if that’s what your heart tells you, or the man who has been taking care of you protests.
From ashes to ashes, and from dust to dust.
It’s all there is left to remember me.
I love you, D’Artangnan. You can doubt many things about how I behaved, and how I broke us, but I promise you that the one thing that is absolutely true was that I never loved anyone but you.
You were my only.
Forever.
Likely my final note.
Graham.’
