Private
((For those who don't yet know, what happened was that a couple nights ago, Alfons started drinking himself to sleep as he was tired of crying himself to sleep instead. He had a bit much, and a lot of things bottled up inside him, and so after a few beers, he wrote this letter. After it was finished, he had quite a bit more, and passed out at his desk. Since then he's been staying up late drinking, although of course thanks to T!Ed, that problem seems to be over now. Anyway, yes, here's the letter.))
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I want to tell you all the thoughts rushing through my mind. I want this to make sense and I want you to truly understand me. Perhaps this is the first time I have ever let everything go, just talked and talked and fully explained myself. I hope it does not end up sounding pathetic or childish, although I expect it may sound a bit naive. You know me. I was innocent until I met you, or so I would like to think. Not without sin, and not without flaws or mistakes, that is for sure. But you changed a lot in me. I gave a lot to you. I gave everything to you. Maybe that is what a first true love is always like. I have heard that when someone falls in love for the first time, they put their heart fully into it, and once burned, they never love like they did that first time ever again. Some might say that is wise, and that giving yourself fully to that one person the way you do your first time is a mistake that you learn from. To me, that sounds so horribly jaded and sad. Maybe I am still too innocent after all. But it seems to me that you cannot really and truly love someone unless you are willing to devote all of yourself to them. That unconditional trust... Perhaps that is what love is.
I am sorry, I know this is disjointed and extremely stream-of-consciousness. I cannot talk to you because you are not here beside me, you are off somewhere else in someone else's apartment, and so all I can do is write and hope that in the morning I will have enough strength to give you this letter so you can understand. I have had a bit much to drink, which I suppose serves to allow me to write without holding back for once, but it is not going to help the organization at all, I am afraid. And again, if you need me to translate any of this at all once I am sober and more entirely awake, you may ask. I cannot write in Amestrian well when drunk.
So let me return to where I started writing, since I seem to have strayed a little off track. I gave you everything of me. I gave you my heart, my soul, and my body, and asked for nothing in exchange because I love you and I knew that you loved me too and you would return such a gift equally. And you did, despite my doubts and my troubles and my illness and whatever confused, muddled feelings I have for my brother. Despite everything, you loved me, sometimes I think more than I loved you, and I apologize sincerely if I ever made you doubt I loved you, because I always have and always will. There lies the problem, though. I always will love you. Whereas you will not always love me. I am glad to be your friend, without a doubt, and in time, if I am still here, our friendship will probably grow deep and unbreakable. We will repair the bond between us that was breached over these past few months. Because the last thing I want is to be away from you. If all I am allowed is your friendship, then I will be the best friend you have ever had. I do not know if you have come to understand this yet, but I would do anything you asked of me, and this is still as true as it ever was. I know this leaves a wide range of potential for misusing my trust, but it is that very trust that allows me to not think but know you would not abuse me like that.
Perhaps it is not fair to mention this now, as you hardly could have known ahead of time, but according to the traditions of my beliefs, it is a sin to... to lay with someone unless the two of you are married. Clearly in our case that is not possible, but clearly I was foolish to ever allow myself to be so intimate with someone who did not understand such convictions. What we did was wrong. To sleep with someone is a sacred thing to me, Edward. It is a way of binding two souls together so that they may never separate, and this is why I should have been so much more careful. I expected us to stay together and share our lives together, and yet my expectations failed to become realized. Now I am used and impure and only sixteen. Perhaps this is why homosexuality is a sin. If I cannot marry, how can I trust the man I am with to stay with me? I feel like a failure. I was used and tossed aside, left behind, unwanted and unloved and I cannot for the life of me understand what I did wrong, what I did to deserve this, why I am so worthless that the man I loved with all my heart and soul tossed me aside with no warning and no explanation.
...I gave you that ring hoping someday you would give me one as well.
Can I possibly tell you everything I want to tell you? My thoughts are fleeting, chased by alcohol. Can I possibly ask you every question I want to ask?
I want to fix things. I do not want to hate myself anymore. I do not want you to be angry at me anymore. I want to go home, but I want to keep my promises to you, and I do not know which is more important to me. If I go home, I can be where I belong, finally, and I can live to fulfill my dreams. But I have to assume that you no longer wish to come with me as you used to tell me you did. You promised you would stay with me and come home with me, but I do not expect you to keep that promise. It is only fair anyway, God knows I have broken promises I made to you countless times. But the one promise I swore I would never break is that for as long as I live, I will continue to help you in the best way I can. You saved my life, and I will continue to save yours. If that simply means working as a pharmaceutical slave then so be it; at least you will have your pills. But if I leave to go fulfill my dreams, I will break the one promise I promised never to break. There once was a time when these things were compatible. But I hardly expect you to come and live with me in Munich now that you so clearly do not want me.
I can feel myself starting to slip, now. I have not had so much to drink ever in my life. I hope I will wake up from this. Maybe I will see this letter later and tear it apart but probably I will hide it with all of the other letters I never sent there are some to you in there too you can read them if you want.
Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou and I always will. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and I miss snuggling with you on the couch and I miss your smile and your laugh and your scars and the feel of cool metal on my skin and I miss you. Thank you for everything even if I regret a lot of it now. It is an experience I will never forget.
Thank you for letting me live.
(( 8/21| 8/24| 8/25| 8/27| 8/27))