“No! No! No!” The young man cried as he ripped another page from his journal and threw it in the trash with all the others. His notebook was wearing thin with only a few pages left. The closer he got to the end of the journal the closer he felt to the last chance he had to make this right.
He rolled away from his desk, throwing his head back as he covered his face in frustration. Words were always so hard for him, especially when it came to emotions. It was so much easier before with the last letter he sent. Logical thoughts and questions were easy, because he knew exactly what to say back then.
Everything seemed so much easier back then. Before everything got revealed and more people got involved. It just didn't feel the same. But still, he carried a guilt in his heart that no matter how many times he stepped away, it just wouldn't go away.
To anyone else it would be silly. What's the point of apologizing when it didn't even matter in the first place? But when others still brought it up and talked about him, those who weren't there before, he suddenly became a kind of pariah, a cryptid within the mystery itself. What used to be a safe, comforting space quickly turned into a loud, angry cacophony.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. All he wanted was answers. All he wanted to do was help. Not to say he didn't. He helped a lot in the earlier days, pouring his head and soul into everything he did, but when everyone else came he felt overwhelmed, pushed to the side. It felt like all the work he put in was for not. Answers that he had already sought were searched for again, and they ignored what he had to say. And with growth came those with malice and hatred. He feared them the most. Always thinking the worst of what they were thinking of him, even if they more than likely didn't even know or care about his existence.
That was then. He had learned to let go. Zaggy helped with that, though he did fear that maybe he was too old for cartoon rabbits. Did the answers really matter? Would they bring happiness or some kind of closure? No. Was it even the answers that brought happiness or the hunt itself? In the end he just accepted that the hunt was no longer fun without others to share his findings with. But this didn't do anything to help that regret he still held onto in his chest.
Then he met Camael. It was like looking in a mirror. Isolated, angry, bitter, pushing everyone away, and being a hypocrite. He was always willing to put in the effort to help others saying that he would be there, but always ignored or swatted away the hand that tried to help him, and could never reach out. No matter how badly he hurt or suffered he could never reach out, or even find the words to do so.
The young man looked at the notebook one more time. No one was forcing him to write this. There was no consequence or a gun to his head making him write. Instead it felt like a need, a compulsion, something he had to do. Taking another deep breath, he put his pen to the paper and tried again.
Dear Angel Gabby, Zaggy, Camael, Francis, Francine, and pretty much everyone. I'm sorry. I feel like I should be sorry for a lot of things, for everything, but I don't think that will get us anywhere. I guess I can start at the top. Gabby, I'm sorry about the letter. Answers are things that we thought we wanted at the moment. I was so obsessed with finding the whats and the hows, that I didn't stop to think how you would feel. Though this was at a time when I didn't know if I could trust you. It's been 2 years since I wrote that letter, and I still feel regretful for it. To Zaggy, I'm sorry I let my obsession with finding answers fuel my anxiety and lead me to push away people that were my friends. You were right. It doesn't matter. To everyone else, I'm sorry. I could have been a better friend. Before the end, when I still felt like clinging on, I didn't realize I was pushing boundaries. Like you, Camael, I know it starts with me. I need to take a step back and figure myself out first. I think this was the start. Finishing this letter and getting this weight off my chest. I don't know if I'm looking for a response, or even want one. No matter what, I will always find comfort in Gabby and all the others. I feel that she will accompany me and be by my side on my journey of recovery. I love and support you all.
Yours Truly, Nathan
