Warning: This is written in a way that gives neither the author a male or female persona. However, depending what mind it is read in, it could be implied as femslash.

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Dear Ana

You know I love you, right? Well I do. I can hardly contemplate living without you. Those thoughts just do not register in my mind. To me, you are everything. You are my drug. My addiction. My medication.

You are keeping me going

I can hardly remember a time before you came. Maybe it’s because it was so bad, and do not remember. They all used to pick on me. The kids at school. They couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand me. I hated it. But when I found you, you gave me something to believe in. Something to focus all my attention on. You suddenly gave me a ledge to find purchase on in my terrible descent. You gave me something solid on which to stand in this life that made no sense.

You provided me with something that I craved. Control. You let me control the small things in my life. You gave me the will to do that, so therefore you gave me control.

By giving me the will to control, you gave me control. Do not ask me how, but it worked.

You are beautiful. You are so beautiful. The very idea of you is beautiful. I find it so easy to understand how I could become infatuated with you. Infatuated by the very idea of you.

I love you. I want you to know that. I feel, that without you, I would die. I know that without you, my world would fall apart. You took away the need for the little things in life. You took away the need for the trivial things in life. You offered something so much greater that everything else. You offered friendship. And I am trying so hard to stay loyal to you. Believe me. I am trying so hard.

They are making it so hard for me. They do not believe in you like I do. They do not see you like I do. They don’t understand how much I need you. They tell me that you are bad. They say that you are evil. They can not see how much you have done for me. They say that you are not good for me. That you will only harm me. They say that you are hurting me. But you wouldn’t do that, would you? You love me. You wouldn’t hurt me.

But they won’t understand that. They will not understand that.

They told me that you are killing me. How is that Ana? Why are you doing this to me? How could you?

They told me that you do not love me. You can not love me. They say that you are just using me. Feeding off of me. Why? It can’t be true. But I’m finding it harder and harder not to believe them. I try thinking of all that you’ve done for me, and it’s getting harder and hared to remember.

They told me, that if I stay loyal to you, I am going to die. And shortly. They said, to stay alive, I have to leave you. But you will die without me. I do not want to be a murderer. But I do not want to die either. They told me that without you I will survive. All these lies. But who is telling them? You? Or they? Who do I believe? I want to believe you, but I can’t. I find myself believing them.

I do not want to kill you. Ana. Please know that. But I do not want to die. I am not ready to die.

I love you Ana. But I must leave you.

Please die Ana. I want to live.

Please

Please die Ana.

I love you Ana. I love you.

Love, Sam

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Author's Note: There are several ways in which this story can be taken. For some, it may just be a simple letter from one person to the next. Others may look deeper into it, and see what is really there. For any who wish to make a guess, or tell me that they know, I'd love to hear from you.