Work Text:
Dear, Madge.
It's stupid writing to dead people, I know that.
After writing this I'm sure I'll crumple it up, and burn it.
Because you won't see this.
Or maybe you will.
I don't think about death often, or at least not as much as I used to.
Maybe there is something, I doubt it. But I'll find out sooner or later right?
I struggle to put this in words, or in a way that doesn't sound stupid, or like the love sick teenager I used to be.
I love you.
Maybe it sounds dumb, I doubt you felt the same way, Why I never told you, keep me up, I was scared. I told myself in the arena I'd tell you once, I could finally leave. But by the time I was in Thirteen, or you don't know this, but there is a District Thirteen, you were already gone.
I can only imagine how scared you were. And I miss you ever day, since then.
I love Peeta too, but not in the way I love you. I love you in the sense it's painful that I'll never be with you, I'll never deliver strawberries to your home, or I'll never kiss on the piano bench, It hurts me so much, I can't bare it most days.
But I love Peeta in the sense, that well... I don't know, He's Peeta, My second best friend, and I'm thankful every day that I can spend the rest of my life with him. As much as I wish it was you. I'll never tell him how I feel about you, I hope he never finds this letter and whatever I choose to do with this stupid letter. I think if he knew, he'd never see me the same, We've been together for so many years he'd be baffled, shocked? Angry? I'm rambling aren't I? You never minded when I did so. But I'm going to run out of ink.
I see where your house used to be, If I go walking far enough, I don't like going there, It bring memories, their not necessarily bad, but it pains me so much to think about what I could have had, what used to be of us.
This is going on for too long, and I haven't told about my life, Though you never cared much about my life, I liked that you know? Many people don't I've come to learn. But you never asked, questions of felt sorry for me.
And since this is wrapping up, as much as I'd like this to last, I blame myself for your death, your in my nightmares, you haunt my narrative, my entire life, and I really think you'll forever remain in my mind until, the day I die.
If I hadn't shot that arrow you'd still be alive. But I needed to do that, I hope you aren't angry at me, I hope you understand. I wonder what it was like, I wonder what you though in your last moment. I said this already didn't I? I'd go back up to look, but it's far too embarrassing to read back.
I hope you remember me. I hope you aren't made at me. I hope there's an afterlife, so I can see you again.
Just one more time.
Love, Katniss.