In this letter I will write what I've seen, so someday you will not have to wonder what went wrong today. I know, my love, life is not fair. Each of us will get its equal share of joy and grief. But I truly believe that some of us can bear more, and others less.
My eyes are sore from the light. The sun, so strong and unrelenting, burns a hole in my heart. I have lost the ability to simply take in the warmth. I've grown cold, and old so soon. I await my last moments here in the shadows, looking out over what was once a beautiful mind-scape. It is gone. All gone. All that I can see now is dirt, deconstruction, decease, and ultimately death. Soon, in less time than it costs a whisper to vanish into the wind, I'll leave this life I've already stopped living. Don't cry for me, my love. I have had my chances and followed my heart; I have danced, loved, laughed, cried, cursed, and killed. I have done good, and I have done wrong. I have lived, and now I will die. But there is one good thing I want you to hold on to; I have loved you, and I always will.