Dear Isobel

\/ advertisement \/

/\ advertisement /\

I am writing this to you in case I am unable to bring you with me. The last month has been too busy for me to see you very often and I worry that it will remain this busy until the end. What is the end? I imagine if you are reading this, and I am gone, the end has already come through. I don’t even know if you will survive. And I don’t know what I am allowed to say regarding how I knew the end was coming.

I do want to say I love you. It has been a crazy year since we met. I don’t know how much of the Phoenix metro I would have been able to see without you showing me around. I also don’t know how I would have handled myself through work without your company on my fleeting days off.

When we first met in person I expected that we would immediately hit it off as friends. We have so much in common that I thought there wasn’t a chance you would be attracted to me. And when I first saw your smile, I was devastated. I was devastated that there being no chance for you to be attracted to me meant I would be haunted for the rest of my life by your beauty mixed with the fact you would never love me.

I was wrong. And I am beside myself about being wrong. You smiled at me so much I was worried I was developing false hope. And when you started holding my hand and demanded I kiss you, I started realizing I was wrong. I’ve never been so filled with joy about being wrong.

My dread now is sourced from worrying you won’t make it through the end. I try not to worry about it, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve planted some seeds which I hope will blossom into you being saved from everything. I don’t even know if I believe what I think I know about what is coming. I just know I am smitten with you.

It occurs to me that you may not even receive this. I programmed multiple sources to email you this a couple months after the end is supposed to have come. I realize there may be no technology left, but if there is, and if any networks exist, I am hoping one of them will connect to you, and that at least one will deliver.  If all exist, and you are bombed with the same email a hundred times, I apologize.

I also apologize for this letter feeling so dark. I am doing everything I can to appear upbeat as I run this building and spend time with you. But when I am opening up in moments like this, it is hard. I also wanted you to know why I would become so morose with you when opening up face to face. This is why. I knew horrible things were coming for humanity and was powerless to stop it. My choices were get run over by it, or help dump fuel in. I don’t regret helping dump fuel in if it means I might be able to save a couple people I love.

I hope this reaches you in good health, regardless of the craziness in the world.

James Freeman

\/ advertisement \/

/\ advertisement /\

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *