Dear Zarbon,
I pray that when you read this letter that
it is because you accidentally found it while you were putting away laundry. If
it is because I am dead, I am more sorry than mere words can express.
Chances are that I will not know how my
end came, but I apologize for putting you through the pain of losing me, be it natural or not.
Life is dangerous, and for us this is even
truer. We never know when something will happen and one of us will not return
from our final mission. I am just glad that I got to spend even a fraction of
my life with you and I thank you for it.
I love you.
Then. Now. Forever. You are my heart and soul, and I can never truly die if you remember that.
If we had a fight before I left or I forgot
to tell you that I love you before I went out, I am sorry. No matter the cause
of the fight or the reason for my forgetfulness, I still love you.
I hope my death was quick and that it wasn’t
gruesome or public. I know you’ll miss me, but please don’t let yourself
become ill because of my absence. I want you to continue your life and live it
to the fullest, for both your sake and mine. I could never rest peacefully if
I knew you were unhappy.
If you find another to love, do not hesitate
to follow your heart. You cannot dwell in the past, angel, and must move on with
your life.
I want to thank you, Koi. Without you, I might not have made it this far. You taught
me to fight better and gave me a reason to do so. You never lost your patience
with me and you always were there when I need reassurance and a cuddle. You taught
me how to open my heart and not hold my true feelings inside. You allowed me
to take down the walls and the façade that most people see, and were not afraid. You
put up with my insanity, my bizarre what-ifs, and my constant wiggling. You brought
love and light into my world and I hope that I somehow conveyed my gratitude to you while I was alive.
I wish you a long and happy life,
full of love, hope, dreams, and peace. You deserve it, Zarbon.
With all my love,
Tonya _. D___
July 25, 2001
