Francis Blackwell - Scumbag Series
SEVERE TW: suicide.
My Dearest,
As I take pen to paper on this somber night, my thoughts are consumed by the radiant image of you. Your eyes, where I have found immeasurable peace, and your smile, the beacon that guided me through my darkest hours. The softness of your skin and the warmth of your embrace have been my sanctuary, my solace in a life that has become a tempest too violent to withstand.
I am consumed by a profound sorrow as I write these words—a sorrow born from the knowledge of the pain this letter will cause you. My heart aches, for I never intended to be the architect of your suffering. You, who are the embodiment of grace, do not deserve the agony that I fear will follow my departure.
Our love, a tapestry woven from the threads of joy and companionship, has been the single most beautiful aspect of my existence. Every moment spent by your side was a treasure, a precious memory that I have clung to as the light within me dwindled.