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June 6
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Dear, Jessica.

Today Ronnie Childs died. Lucky me. The boys don’t want me to walk out and walk freee.
I can’t blame you for finally leaving me those months ago, but I know you too well.

You wouldn’t have ripped me from your heart, even though you should have. I don’t regret loving you, but letting you love me is the greatest sin.
Or second worst. The first was joining a gang.

I went numb as I ran out of things to care about.
Stopped caring about the taste of blood drawn in a fight, the bruises and cracked bones of my boys and myself, or what the other guys looked like.
Stopped caring about breaking into stores, robbing the guy behind the counter working for ten dollars an hour to raise a wife and three kids.
Stopped caring about what I could do with my life, ‘cause there was nothing left for me to do. The past clung to me the longer it got. It wasn’t the past anymore, it was my whole reality.

But you know what? I never could stop caring for you. That’s why I told you to leave me.

I wish you could see this. Wish I could say I was sorry. Wish I could take back everything I’d ever done.
That’s not how life works. It goes, sometimes up, sometimes down, but eventually you hit the end of the line. This is it for me.
This letter isn’t going to see the light of day.

You always did tell me I was better than the company I kept. I was smarter, kinder, and ten times the lover any of them would ever be. So this goes out to you, wherever you are.
Whether you stare across the San Francisco bay and bask in the salty sea breeze, walk in the New York snowstorms and shiver in the cold, or stare out at the trees from your home in Montana.
I can’t imagine why you ever left them in the first place. You can’t have come from anywhere but the nicest folks, the nicest town. You didn’t belong out here.

Jessica, I always thought I was too far gone. I was a monster of my own creation. You said I was a fallen angel.
Turns out you were right. The monster was just clinging to me, just over my shoulder, feeding me lies and dragging me further and further towards a point of no return.
I’m there. I can’t return. But I can admit. I admit everything. To think if I’d listened to you and done that sooner, I wouldn’t have to write this letter.

This is not a suicide note. This is a eulogy. You would have wanted me to have this much, at least. Not like I can expect anyone else to write it.
“Ronnie lived fast and in the moment, never regretting anything. He loved his Jessica like no man ever loved. And when he died, he died with a smile on his face.”
Jessica, you ever play two truths and a lie?

Well I already said I had regrets, so that’s cheating. But that’s ok, I forgive you.

Let’s try again.
The gang finally let me just up and quit without a fight, I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m the worst thing that happened to you.
I’m really bad at this, aren’t I? Forget it then.

It wasn't a lie when I said I was going to die with a smile. You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die?
I spent mine with you. Worth every second.

Last thing I have to say is that, Jessica…you’ve meant the world to me. If I could pick one thing that I did right in my life, it was choosing you. In as much as it was right. I don’t know how much you realize it, that words cannot express. But I have to tell you, and I mean REALLY tell you:
Jessica, I love you.

Farewell again, unless we meet on Heaven’s white shores,
Ronnie
Submission for :iconwriters--club: writing tournament, round III. The prompt was "With the devil on your back." So I played around with the concept of what the devil is. A combination of thinking and theology led me to this.
:iconjohnnycorporation:
johnnycorporation Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2014
10/10 Great job. 
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