I only want to say "thank you" to someone who can no longer hear it.
Thank you for what you did for me, whether or not you even knew what that was. I barely knew you, and yet you died for me. You didn't even die to save my life, you died so that I could have a single moment. The moment I'd dreamed of. The dream that I'd wished for so hard that I'd called it a prophecy, long before I knew, that's exactly what it was.
Thank you for all the people who may never know how your life and death affected their lives. Yes, I know that you died for a cause bigger than me and my 'prophecy'. I'm not so self-centered that I would think that a single moment of my life was worth yours. My entire life would not have been worth yours. I don't pretend to know why you died, or all that you accomplished, but I only know that there must be more to what happened than what I can see. I'm still trying to figure out what I can, but I'm only a voice crying out in the dark. You were the light, and you're gone now. I have to solve this great enigma on my own.
And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I needed your miracle as much as I did. I'm sorry that I was so focused on my dreams that I didn't see the bigger picture. I couldn't see that you would have to die to make my dreams come true. And yet, it's hard not to blame myself. As though my wishing for what happened was what killed you. Maybe it was. I wish I knew. But there's so much I wish I knew. And I know that if I knew the whole story, I might wish I didn't. But still, I can't help but wonder.
Sometimes I've wondered if you really knew what you were doing. And I've wondered whether it was worth it. Often I've wondered how it is that the past could predict the future. Was it fate? Did you know? Did I simply wish so hard that my dream became reality?
I still don't really know whether to feel guilty or grateful to you. Maybe you knew nothing of my silly prophecy, and we were both just pawns of some greater power. Maybe wishing hard enough for something really can make it come true. I hope not. But I don't know.
I've tried to blame it on chance, or luck, or coincidence. But the chances were too high against what happened. It was billions to one. That wasn't coincidence.
Was it my fault? That is the question I cannot stop asking myself. I wish you could answer me. Perhaps that would finally ease the guilty conscience I've been carrying for these past two years.
But another question has entered my thoughts more recently. Does it really matter? Does it matter whether it was my fault or not? All that matters is what happened. And whether I would have done it all again. Would I have done it all again? That's the question that really scares me. Because I don't know the answer to that, either. Would I have let you die if I could have stopped it? I want to scream yes, yes, a million times yes, but there is always that dark doubt in the back of my mind. The dark, dreaming part of my mind that wonders if maybe it really was worth it. A single moment of perfection, worth a human life? I want to say no, it wasn't. A human life is worth so much more than that. But that dark doubt won't let me go. What can I do?
And I know you must not wish for me to feel guilty forever. I'm trying to forgive myself. But it's hard, and I'm afraid, because I still don't know if you would have forgiven me. I still don't even know if you meant for things to happen the way they did. Perhaps that's a stupid thing to wonder. You were never one to withhold forgiveness, anyway. But, there's still that dark doubt . . .
Was it my fault? It all comes back to that question. I wish you could answer me.
I guess, most of all, I just want to say thank you. If only because 'thank you' is all I have left to say. A long time ago, you sent me a birthday card. I don't know if it meant anything to either of us at the time, but it means everything to me now.
Make a very special wish
Let your spirits soar
Celebrate with all your heart
That's what a birthday's for
Thank you for that very special wish. I will celebrate it with all my heart, forever.