The undelivered goodbye letter

Paige,

There's a version of our life where I keep you. Where I get to wake up with you tangled around me and pretend the world outside our cocoon doesn't exist. I have replayed that life so many times that I swear I know what it would feel like—your laughter in my bedroom, you dancing in my kitchen, the sunlight in your hair, peace that doesn't feel borrowed.

But that isn't the life I was born into. And every time I look at you, I remember what a fool I am for wanting it anyway.

I could lie and say that letting you go is noble—that I'm doing the right thing, that I'm protecting you. But the truth is uglier: I'm terrified. Terrified of what my father will do to you just to get to me. Terrified that loving me is a death sentence written in a language I can't unlearn. Terrified that if I hold you any closer, I won't survive what comes next.

I love you, Paige. I love you in a way that makes breathing feel like a risk. And maybe this is the part that breaks me—I love you enough to step back. Enough to let you find a life that isn't built on running, hiding, bleeding for a man who can't promise you a future. Enough to let you hate me, especially if it means you live.

You, my love, deserve a world that doesn't keep asking you to survive it.

If there is a universe where we find our way back to each other, I hope I am the version of myself who is finally worthy of you. The man who has buried his ghosts instead of carrying them like a curse.

Until then, I will keep writing letters you will never read. Because it's the only way I know to love you without putting a target on the one person in this world who has my heart.

— Carlos

From 'After Him' — The goodbye letter Carlos wrote in the dark — a goodbye born from love, terror, and the belief that Paige deserves a safer world than his. Thankfully, this letter remained unsent, because nothing could keep them apart, and he quite literally burned his world down for her.

© Isabelle Ruby