My beloved █████,
If you are reading this, it means you went back — to your own time, to the world I will never see.
I am relieved. You made it out.
I write this not to be remembered, but to keep you from carrying more than you already do.
It was my mistake that I convinced you that perhaps you came back in the past to change it. I was wrong.
I hope by now you understand: the past does not need to change. It only needs to be witnessed.
When you vanished, I knew you would come back. You always would — the same way the sun always returns, even when the sky forgets it.
But I prayed you wouldn't. Not this time.
Because I have seen what waits at the end, and I don't want you to see it too.
Ellis and your uncle… they deserve their ending, however cruel.
As for me — I'll stay with them. It's where I belong.
There's a poem I love, by Salvador Novo.
"Amar es aguardarte como si fueras parte del ocaso."
To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the sunset.
So I will wait, not for you to return, but for you to live.
To drink coffee under a sky that no longer burns.
To smile when you think of us — not with grief, but with warmth.
If time is kind, perhaps when the sun sets in your world, you'll look west and remember me.
That will be enough.
— Yours, always,
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