#skiwalkerrey

Sitting in the back of the tent as he watched them dance he pulled the envelope from his vest pocket, caressing the paper and thinking on the words inside, allowing himself one more chance to recant all of it and throw it into the giant bonfire illuminating his best friends. 

K

First and foremost, in case you’d forgotten which I don’t see how you could because I say it all the time… I love you. From the bottom of my black crippled heart I love you to the stars and back again a thousand times over. Which is part of what makes this so difficult to write, and to carry out. I love you.

But I can’t do this. 

I wasn’t born to sun, or happiness, or love, of peacetime. I don’t know how to be the man you need me to be, he needs me to be, in a world that isn’t at war. You’re going to live happily ever after, and you’re going to have a big beautiful family with that big beautiful man and you need to do it without the shadow of the past, of the war, hanging over your head. So I’m leaving… because I can’t live in peacetime and I can’t keep you in the past with me. 

Tell him that I love him too. He doesn’t get a letter because I don’t know how to say what I want to say to him. You know. You’ll interpret correctly, I know that, but just tell him I’m sorry, and I love him, and not to bother because even he won’t be able to track me. 

Tell your kids fairytales about an Owl who could see in the dark, who could make things, but who could fly free and wholly; do me the favor of lying to them a little bit about who I was. Make me a superhero, like I never could manage to be in life. I’m leaving this in your stack of gifts so by the time you notice it I’ll be long gone. 

Please remember, no matter what happens, that I have unflinching and unwavering faith in two things; your heart, and his devotion. 

Yours, from now until the sun burns black in the sky,

Azar

A deep sigh rumbled through him and he picked up his cane, hobbling his way over to the massive mountain of gifts assembled for the newlyweds and setting it on top of a pile of cards. One last glass of champagne and one last look at his best friends glowing with happiness and he walked, as straightly as he was able, to the entrance of the tent. 

“It’s gonna kill her to see you gone, Flint.”

Another miracle of the day was that Haymitch was sober enough to form a complete sentence. 

“It’ll keep her down too much if I stay. Some things should stay underground, Abernathy.”

The man nodded, tucking his flask into Azar’s vest pocket, filling the void left by the letter. 

“Stay safe. Die well.”