Ian 3

Ian,

I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t want this.  I don’t…

Oh, so you know this song?

I’m sick today.  I have a fever.  The basement knows that, having made it autumn.  It’s been quiet and slow, thank god.  I want to be left alone.  I want to die.  Everything is so cold here.  I know a secret about you.  It’s that you know all about dying.  I know because when you died once, you went home to the River.  If you aren’t afraid to die, you’re a girl.

Look, okay, when I’m sick I get delirious and you’re here and you could haunt me and please don’t.  Don’t, please, I don’t want it.  I just got rid of you.  It took Anders leaving to get rid of you.  Please stop.  I don’t know what you want from me.

I dreamed about you once, wandering the old house with your mouth sewn shut.  I was naked and wearing a huge amulet and walking from empty room to empty room.  Please leave me alone, Matthew, I don’t want this.  Not today.

I’m trying really hard to be normal.  I know I’m not supposed to talk to you like this and I can stop.  Hi how are you how are things do you need anything did you get that picture oh good yes it’s good to hear abou

The thing is.  I could see it.  No, okay.  Nevermind, I can leave it alone.  

No, please don’t.  Not like this.  

There’s this bathroom

It’s Adam’s fault.  Because we live in each other.  It was an accident.  I can shut up.  Brad says to.  But I have to tell you everything.  

I know how you were a ghost.  I could feel it.  Sometimes I could see it.  Does guilt do that?  I might’ve been guilty.  I think I was guilty.  Did I do...something?  The basement is playing She’s Gone.  I feel like I might be alone, but I can hear you.  That’s not real, but I can hear you.  I might be going crazy.  I feel all this pressure.  I’m like that doctor whose name I forget that recorded the symptoms of plague all the way up until he died.  I bet you know his name.

Or fucking something.

There’s this bathroom.  The tiles are blue, but not all of them.  You’re in it, and you’re alone.  You don’t look in the mirror.  I’m not sure you care.  I have a proclivity for writing sentences that are five words long when I’m upset.  

I think I am now.

I’m going to be sick.

There’s this bathroom that you stand in sometimes, when you’re haunting me.  It’s got blue tiles, but not all of them are blue.  You don’t look in the mirror, but you look down at the sink.  I know how you were a ghost.  It’s made of something blue.  You left all this gold light at the River.  You can have it back, as soon as I figure out how.  

I deleted this letter by pressing the back button a lot, and I watched myself untype it.  Then I redid it all, faster than I did the first time.  Go away, dragon.  Go away, dragon.  Get out of my blood.

Love, 

Annik