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#queerlove#youngstorytelleraward2022

Letter No.16

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Letter No.16 | story.one

Sven, my dearest, dearest Sven,

This letter will be my last. My parents finally had enough of my silence and searched my room. My father found your letters. Never have I seen such loathing in human eyes as I did in that moment. Before the first blow hit me, I knew that everything was over now.

They took everything from me. My books, that my father always said had made me too soft… my favourite clothes, like the shirt with the floral pattern you loved so much… my mother said that no real man should wear something like that. My beauty… I know, it sounds vain, but after my father was done with me, I looked in the mirror and I realized that my face would never look like it did before. Like it does in your memory. Like you loved it, caressed and kissed it.

And finally, they took my future.

They threw me out of the house, barely a chance to pack even the most basic necessities. My father tossed a few coins for the bus to my aunt at my feet before he slammed the door.

The only thing that remains is my love for you, the love that burned so bright in my heart that I was no longer able to hide it. But its fire was so strong, so hot and relentless that it has now turned everything around me to ashes. A single spark and suddenly everything was ablaze, burning fiercely, and now I stand among the billowing smoke, tasting the soot on my tongue, seeing what the flame has wrought and still I can’t bring myself to extinguish it.

Not if it’s the only thing I have left. If I must die, at least I won’t have to be cold.

May they say what they want, spit on us, hit us, kick us… I know that my love for you was the only thing that made my life worth living. I wish I had been strong enough to carry that flame within me.

If the world was more just, maybe we could have found a way. The only thing I regret is that I cannot give you what you deserve. You deserve every ray of sunshine, every twinkle of the stars and every gentle scent that this world can give you. I would have loved to share it with you. Instead, the only thing I can leave you is a final letter, a final testament to my love. And my final painting. It’s still at school… I hope it can somehow find its way into your hands.

If I’m not to be allowed to live as I want, cannot live as I am, I want to at least find death on my own terms. I hope you can forgive me one day.

I will wait for you, among the stars in the night sky.

Don’t forget me, my beloved.

© Severin Buchenau 2022-05-21

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