Dear Marie - and dear Wicked, too. Feels like I should be writing you two separate letters. Maybe I shouldn’t, though.
Watching you leave us the first time was hard. I got pretty attached to you, no matter how you’re feeling at the moment, or which of you I’m talking to. They’re both a part of you, even if you feel like they shouldn’t be, even if they cause you pain. I’m gonna try and keep this brief, but - I’m about to disappear off the face of the planet. Spare a dead guy his last words, yeah?
To Marie, specifically: You’re a strong person. Always stuck out to me. Thank you for letting me teach you, and for letting me look after you a bit. I wish I could have done more - I missed you, while you were gone. You told me in your last moments you want to feel hopeful, so I hope that you’re able to feel that - and I hope that your last moments are a long, long way away.
To Wicked, specifically: I’m glad, more than anything, that this place brought you people to love, and people who love you in return. That matters, you know? Friends, romance, whatever. Love matters. You deserve to be loved. You’ve got a lot of good people around you, now, people who’ll have you no matter what happens. Hold onto them tight.
And to the both of you. I know I fucked up with the meaning of your flowers, back then, but I’m stubborn. Like I told you then, snowdrops at home are the first sign of spring after a cold winter. They’re sympathy, but more than anything, they’re a representation of hope. That’s what I’ve got for you. A hope for a bright future and a life full of love.
Love you, Marie. Love you, Wicked. Thank you for everything.
MARIE.