Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Davey

Davey,

Twelve months. Today. Exactly. Half an hour to go.

You know everything I have to say. Everything I could possibly want to say. You know me better than I know myself.

I don't want another life. All I want is you, and you're not coming back. Not even if I beg and plead like some girls do when boyfriends dump them. But you didn't dump me. You loved me to the end.

You're dead.

You're not coming back. Ever.

So I won't either.

I'm going to Orchard Street again. I haven't walked down it since you died. But I'm going there now. And I'm not coming back.

I love you, Davey. I love you so, so much. It hurts, Davey. It hurts really bad. And I'm frightened. Can you take it away? Can you help me?

Please?

I love you, Davey.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - I Wanted

Davey,

We've got so many shared memories, you and I. Do you ever think of me, wherever you are? Do you remember?

I won't ever forget. I'm going to think and remember every day, even if it hurts. Even if it hurts to bad I want to turn away and forget, because there'll be less pain that way. I won't let myself.

I wanted to have kids as beautiful and clumsy and funny and sincere and downright sunny as you. I wanted to hold you when you were sad. I wanted to watch you telling bedtime stories to our children, putting on funny voices and tickling them when they got too noisy. I wanted to make you toast in the morning and complain about the mess of your hair. I wanted to watch you grow old, and tell you that you hadn't aged a bit. I wanted to be there for you.

I wanted to love you for ever.

And now I never will.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - If You Hadn't...

Davey,

They tell me it wasn't my fault. But I know what they don't. I was there. And I can't stop thinking about how it could have been. How it should have been.

If you hadn't waved goodbye. If you hadn't told me you loved me. How different might it be now?

You turn, wave.

'Did I ever tell you I love you?'

I'm laughing. You're grinning. It's perfect. All we care about is each other. We've got forever, you and I. I open my mouth to tell you that you're an idiot, but I love you anyway, and I always will.

Neither of us sees the car.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Life

Davey,

Mum wants me to move on. She says it's not natural, the way I'm behaving.

I think she wants me to forget. She says she 'understands' that I must be 'feeling rough', but thinks that 'the best thing' for me would be to 'try and move on'.

Get a life, in other words.

But what if I don't want to get a life? Not a new one. I want my old one back. With you.

Mum says I should stop living in my memories. But why should I, when they're much better than what's really happening?

I just wish they weren't memories. I wish they were real again.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Fate

Davey,

Do you believe in fate? That on the day you're born, it's decided when you'll die?

23 May 2010. 10:15 pm. Orchard Street. You. Me.

You reach towards me, and I see the moonlight reflected in your eyes. It's romantic right up until you grin at me and laugh. I tell you you're an idiot.

And then I kiss you.

'I've got to go,' you say, pulling away from me.

'Do you have to?' I don't want to be alone. I want to take you home and eat pizzas in front of rubbish television, and chat all night. And maybe do something else again, as well.

'Yes,' you say. 'I'm sorry. But I'll be round tomorrow. Kay?'

I nod. Reach up - you're taller than me, always have been. I kiss your cheek. I can feel your bristly beginnings of a beard beneath my lips.

Then you go. Leave me standing on the pavement, watching you.

You turn. Grin. Wave.


'Did I ever tell you how much I love you?'

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - I'm Fine

Davey,

Did I ever tell you that I love you?

About twice every day, I know. You used to call me 'hopeless romantic'. And then I'd call you 'idiot'. And then we'd laugh.

People ask me all the time how I'm doing. I tell them I'm fine.

The truth is, I don't know how I'm doing. Most of the time I just feel nothing. I'm so empty and hollow, like I'm missing something vital. My body can't function without you. Other times, though, I'm physically in pain, like you've just been ripped from me. I'm tearing at my face and hair. I'm sobbing and screaming.

I feel like such a kid when people ask me how I'm doing. I want to yell at them 'What do you think?! I feel shit awful!'

But then they'd just make excuses for me. And right now, the last thing I need is pity.


I just really need a hug.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Missing You

Davey,

I'm starting to realise that memories aren't enough. I've got all these memories of you, but I don't want them. I want you.

I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss the random conversations we had about literature and art and sex and kids and rain. I miss waking up every day and knowing I'll be able to tell you how much I love you, whenever I want. I miss the way your hair stuck up no matter how much you tried to keep it down, and how I pretended to hate it so much. I miss the face you pulled when you were trying to be romantic.

I miss you.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Replay

Davey

You know how, on a DVD, you can fastforward, rewind and replay? I've found a way of doing that with my memories of us.

Only, each time I watch them, I become more unsure if what I'm watching really happened.

You know how myths got passed down over the ages? Each storyteller changed or added something. Well, I feel like that's happening to my memories. They feel fake, like the memories you think are real until you realise you weren't born then, or whatever.

I wonder if I'm going mad. But I don't think I can be, because I figure that mad people never wonder if they're mad. And I just did. So maybe I'm ok.

I don't really feel very ok.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey - Falling Leaves

Davey,

It was sunny today. I went down to the park and sat on the bench where you kissed me that first time - do you remember? I just sat there today, and watched the autumn leaves falling off the old oak tree that was hit by the lightening two years back - that night when you and I had our first date. Have you ever noticed how beautiful all the colours of the leaves are? People say they're orange and brown and red, but there's every colour in between, and more besides. You were the one who taught me to notice things like that.

I pulled out that old portrait you painted of me last summer. I look happy. I'm sure you made me look prettier than I really am - I told you so at the time - but you wouldn't listen. You always did flatter me.

And sometimes I believed you.

Excerpt: Letters to Davey

Davey,

I don't know why I'm writing to you. You're never going to read this. I just suppose that maybe this might help me to sort myself out. So could you please just listen to me, like you always used to? You're very good at listening. So could you put up with me for just a little bit more? Just while I work everything out. This might help. It might not. But I've got nothing to lose.

Thank you, Davey Boy.