Letter To A MuseCrush

Dear A,

It wasn’t meant to be this way.
Not like this. Not right now.
But that’s exactly what happened. And now is exactly when it did.
And really there’s really no answer to the why. Why you?
You have no idea what you meant. I had no chance to telling you.
You were the Beatles-haired boy who walked straight out of my dreams.
You made the past two months the best part of my life in the last three years.
You were the Muse.

And then you die. Who the heck dies at 19? Why you?
Fuck the world. Fuck God. Fuck everything.

I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you on Monday.
And I wasn’t going to screw up. It was going to be perfect.
And then you die on Saturday. Why?

I saw the photographs. Taken just minutes before.
You. Smiling. In the river.
God.
It wasn’t even that big a river.
You were supposed to get a chance at least.
A chance for yourself.
For your dreams.
For everyone else. For us.
Who would’ve guessed forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life.

But it’s The End now.
The end to your story.
Before it even began. 
Because with you, the Muse is gone. 
And he’s not coming back.
Not now.
Not ever.

I wish you were here.
I wish you’d stayed.
I wish your time hadn’t run out.
I wish, I wish, I wish – I still had you.

Gone, they say, you are. But,
I’ll keep you. Forever,
The Beatles-haired boy straight out of my dreams.

Always,
B

                                                 (Image source: Here)

This is NOT a work of fiction.

10 thoughts on “Letter To A MuseCrush

  1. Bee, writing is the place to get all of it out. I am so, so sorry for your loss. At that age, we don't really think of ourselves as being mortal. At least I didn't until I lost my best friend. It. Sucks. Forever. It gets easier…in moments. But it never fully heals. Take solace in writing. Write him alive. You have every right to your anger. This world doesn't make sense. Ever. I lost another Muse in March. I wrote her into my current WIP. I get to see her everyday. But I didn't start writing her into it until a few months after she died. At first, it hurt. Now I love it. I love seeing her running free in the forest of my pages. My heart goes out to you. My thoughts are with you. If only I had a magic wand and could undo it for you. 😦

    Like

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