Bella, I Love You

Preface

Dear Reader. Thank you for the click. even if that is all it is, it means more than I could ever say. This excerpt is part of a short piece that I started work on years ago and never really completed. I'm led to believe that is a pretty universal experience among writers! So what you may also know is that sometimes these bits of fiction are - while incomplete - deserving of the light of day. And I thought I might share it with anyone who's interested.

All that's left to say is to be cautious when reading. This work contains some trigger warnings including grief, suicide, eating disorders and substance abuse. I don't want to be responcible for anyone's pain. Talking about this is always important and I think when I wrote this, my aim was to normalise a very stigmatised subject. What I'm trying to say is if you or anyone you know struggles with topics here, know that you are not alone and there is help too.

With winter rolling in, Look after yourselves and those around you.

With love, T.A. Seed

Bella, I Love You.

Chapter One: The End

As you step through the front doors of the house and the room falls quiet by your side. You look up to your pale surroundings and have nothing left to say. How did you spend your time before I came into your life? All those hours you were alone, now forgotten. Now alone once more. You walk further into the house and as you do, you are greeted by the monotonous march of the grandfather clock. Neither of us ever liked it much. Too loud, and garish in looks. But now you look at it almost lovingly, as if it is one of the many things that reminds you of me. Moving on, you walk to the back of the house, into the breakfast room with French windows that look out onto the back lawn. You place your cardigan on the back of one of the six chairs and walk towards the light from outside. In the summer we spent hours on the thick grass and between colourful flower boarders, but now it was mud logged from the winter and you having sacked our gardener. One of the many temper tantrums I won’t be there to sooth you from any longer. You never had the longest temper, Bella. You are quick to snap when something doesn’t go your way and the house staff quickly acclimatised to those conditions. Now you turn back around and walk toward the stair well. Up you climb to the quarters we found haven in. The bed is still unmade, and the window left a jar from where we would climb out onto the roof top of the annex like children and smoke cigarettes under the stars. You pull it shut and walk across the room, sitting on the side of the bed and holding the hem of the duvet cover in your hands. And still the silence is over whelming. Without me there to hold, you lie down, letting your head sink into the feather pillow and bring your knees to your chest. You Have described that feeling to me before. You are in pain and like there is an exposed hole where your gut should be, you bring your knees to your chest in order to protect it from the harsh elements.

I am sorry I’m not still with you, Bella. Truly. You were the hardest thing to leave behind when I made my decision. Everything else I could let go of so easily, but you stuck with me. Your face, your curves. The way you looked at me in the morning when coming down the stairs. In all our years together, it never grew old or faded. It never looked forced or fake. And I hope that I looked the same. I hope that I filled you with the same joy when you saw me waiting for you in the hallway or when I gazed at you over the breakfast table your soul would brighten like mine did.

I see you like this and, among the love I still have, the guilt overpowers me. You don’t deserve to be left. You deserved more; you always did. You put your heart in a broken basket and I couldn’t hold it any longer. Bella, I’m sorry. Bella, I love you.