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Dear Freddie,
I know this letter will never reach you. Unless there is a magical post office somewhere up there, or if you're just haunting me. I'd much rather the first one.
If you were haunting me I don't know if I could live with the fact I practically stole your life. Everyone pretends I'm you. I couldn't disappoint them.
I almost did, if I'm being honest. When everyone was out the house and I sat in the silence of our once-shared room, I had decided that I wanted to join you. I would've if Ron hadn't come home early. I'm glad he saved me, but there's a lingering anger that builds in my chest. If I had died there, I would never be compared to you again.
The shop. It's so empty without you. I almost considered closing it down. How could I not? It was our dream. Ours. Not mine alone. You were the one more adamant on the idea of selling our creations anyways. Ron quit his job to help me run it. It helps with the silence sometimes. But he's not you. He doesn't know what I'm thinking, doesn't anticipate the punchline of the joke, doesnt plan pranks with your tenacity. Of course, I love him, but half of me died when you did.
Angie. Merlin, how do I tell you about her? She was heartbroken when you died. Heartbroken you left her so quickly. I visited her after the funeral. She started throwing all kinds of furniture at me. She shouted until she lost her voice.
"I wish it was you instead." The six words I remember the most. The words I knew everyone probably thought. The thing is? It should've been me. I was always 'the other twin' anyways. It was never George and Fred. It was always Fred and George. Even though I'm the only one left, I'm still the second choice.
To my horror, I got closer to Angelina after that. I tried to reason with myself, that she was just grieving you too much and I just got caught in the crossfire. I only wanted to help. This 'help' divulged into a relationship with her. I'm sorry, Freddie. I'm so sorry. I know you loved her. Merlin, I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to help.
I got married to Angelina. We've been married for a couple years now. We're both broken without you. I love her, I really do, but I can't hold her without thinking about how she's probably imagining I'm you. I don't blame her. She barely got word of you when we went into hiding. To find out the man she really loved died before she could talk to him again messed her up. Angie's just living the life that she wanted to live with you with me.
There's a never ending guilt that courses through me whenever me and Angelina spend the night together. You should be in my position.
On a happier note, Angie and I have two kids. One boy, one girl. We named our son after you. He looks just like you—well me actually. He's just as mischievous as I was when you were still here. I know, naming him after you wasn't the best idea, but I wanted to name him after you in some way, and I didn't think a middle name would be appropriate for the man who always made others smile, regardless of if I was there. Roxanne is Angelina and I's little girl. She's amazing. Just as skilled as her mother.
I'm learning to live without you being here, Freddie. Especially since I have people to live for. I'll see you when I see you, big brother.
Your twin, George.