Dear Hope,

Dear Hope,

I know that it’s probably a little late to say anything now, as the maggots of time have already begun to devour your rotting soul. However, I’ll still come to you in your time of need, as you have done for me in the past. I know that it’s probably meaningless now, but I would like to take some time to write you. Not to beg you to come back, but rather to accept the fact that you are no longer here. To bring closure to our relationship, if you will. I’m writing you tonight to let you know that I still think of every time you stood beside me, and how it broke my world apart every time I awakened to see no one. This hasn’t been planned as an angsty, “fuck you for leaving” letter. However, I won’t promise anything. Here it goes…

I often lay in my bed, watching my shadow on the opposite wall, scattered in shades of red by my alarm clock. I lay there all hours of the night, wondering what happened to you after you left me. I think of the night we stood together on the bridge, and if the leap you took into the river was your final goodbye. I can still remember watching as you fell like a wounded dove into the black rapids below. I knew that I’d never find you as I walked up and down the river bank the next day. Somehow, I managed to refuse to acknowledge that you were gone.

But I know you’re out there, because I saw you the other night walking hand-in-hand with my friend that drinks too much. You two would be great together, as he recently found new ways of defeating his habit. Maybe you’ve been helping him as you’ve helped me. I didn’t say anything then, just lit another cigarette and walked to the other side of the street. I didn’t want to interfere, he needs someone like you with him right now.

I guess now I should go, as I guess I honestly never really expected to change your mind. However, you did teach me a lot, and I would love to be to others what you were for me. I just hope that I’m strong enough to do it alone.

Love,

Brett Bloom