My dearest Marian,
I am sorry to say that I will soon be gone from this world. I hope you can forgive me. I waited for you here for thirty days- George and Anna left weeks ago. We couldn’t call you once the phone lines went down.
I’m sorry, my love. I was so careful all this time on my own. I knew if I died while you were away, especially because I waited for you, you would come straight to hell to kick my ass. You probably saw the broken window when you came in. A bad storm cracked it and let the scent out for the Hunters to catch. You can assume the rest.
As I lay dying, I find myself frustrated. I think of the days when we imagined moving out west and starting a family. I envy that girl I dreamt of- a little cottage, two lovely cats, you by my side. Endless bliss.
I hate this hell. I hate that we’re going to be separated. I hate not even knowing if I’m going to die before you or if you’re already dead and I would never know.
Part of me hopes you never find this. If you’re dead that means you’ll be waiting for me.
That’s selfish, sorry. If you are reading this, stay alive. I’ll never forgive you if you follow me too soon.
Do you remember that day on the beach? The very last day before all of this. Our anniversary. You were so radiant in that sunset, in your white dress and knee deep in ocean water. The image of you is burned into me forever. The words you said to me burn like a fire in my soul, even as my soul now flickers out.
My heart is yours as well, dear Marian. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I loved you from the moment I met you in that stupid red sweater. And I’ll love you in a thousand lifetimes more, too.
I’m wearing the heart locket you gave me then. You know I always wear it. I sweat so much these days since the electricity went down for good ages ago that it’s tarnished beyond repair, but I think it looks almost more beautiful now. Sort of like us in a way- something from the past, beaten and weathered but still true.
I never let you see the inside, but if you find me here after I am gone- you can look inside.
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.
I’m scared, Marian. I feel death coming. I feel myself fading away. I wanted this letter to put on a brave face for you. But I’m terrified, and I don’t even know if you’ll ever see this.
George and Anna went east, and I said we would be along shortly. I couldn’t leave knowing there was a chance you would come back like you said you would. George and Anna were gentle but they said it would be best for me to go. The city is too dangerous. But I have to believe that you made it out, that you’ll make it back here. That you’ll make me wait on the beach for you until my very soul grays with age.
The map and plans are out in the garage to give you the specifics on where they went. Go there, Marian. I’m serious. Don’t stay here.
I’ll always be with you. I promise. And I’ll see you again. I’ll see you on the beach when the time is right. Maybe it’s in five minutes, maybe it’s in forty years.
There's so much I wish I could write now, as I lay here. I'm running out of time. I'm so sorry, my love. No matter what, to have gotten the chance to love you in this lifetime no matter how short has been more than I could ever have deserved. To have been loved by you is a blessing beyond my comprehension.
I'll be on the beach.
All my love,