Yet I am convinced that Julian's death is not your fault. Don't be afraid to give room to your memories. It is necessary for you to let go of them once and for all.
Do you trust me, Noah? Just a little bit?
My God, I don't know. A pressure on my chest and a tightness in my throat spreads through me. I can barely breathe and, even less so, think. But the notion that I could free myself from my guilt overshadows the jumble of emotions brewing inside me.
What if she's right?
What if I really have to push myself to search within me for the truth?
Could that truly heal me? Would it finally make me feel that freedom I yearn for?
There's nothing I want more than to believe Elina. "I trust you," I whisper with a voice choked by tears.
If you do that, then embark on the search for your memory. Somewhere within you, there is something like a switch that can lead you to it. I cannot tell you where it is, but I assure you that it exists.
The key is confrontation. Be brave. Face the past.
Look at photos of Julian, talk to others about him and the accident. Walk into the gorge once more. Go precisely to the place where it happened. That might help you overcome your blockage.
If it doesn't work, my colleague Klaus is available for you in his practice in Munich. He awaits your call whenever you feel ready for it.
Just like me.
I let the letter sink onto my thighs and gaze into the distance. Immediately, I lose myself in the shimmering of the lake before the clearing. There is a deep sadness within me. Because in Elina's words, there is something final. She doesn't write that she wants me back at any cost. There is no trace of selfishness. She wrote this letter solely to help me.
It is the essence of her fighting spirit and selflessness.
A wistful smile flickers across my face. If she were here right now, I would pull her into my arms. "Thankyou," I would whisper into her hair, and just by that alone, I would feel a little lighter. "Thank you for being there for me."
Nothing is ever lost as long as we don't give up on it.
I believe in you.
And I believe in us.
Elina's final words blur before my eyes. My muscles give way, and the letter slips to the ground.
I wish I could call her right now. To tell her that I want to believe too. In us and in everything she wrote to me. But I know that wouldn't be right.
Belief alone is not enough. I need to uncover the truth.
It's clear to me that there's only one way to do that. I have to do what Elina implores me to do.
Find the switch.
And I already have a sense of how I might accomplish that.
