Letter to Bryson Powell
Dearest Bryson,
I don't rightly know what to do with myself. I am unhappy, that much I am for certain, but the unhappiness that I feel I am not quite sure if it is due to decisions I have made that ultimately lead to my loneliness, or if I am somehow perpetually wanting to feel that way. Have you ever thought that perhaps you have been a certain way, have felt a certain way for so long that feeling something else would be out of the ordinary? I fear change, this you know, but I understand and comprehend the fact that change is inevitable. It is something you can always count on happening, therefore it should be expected. Still, when it happens, I am left feeling hopeless and completely lost. Bugger.
The late night dwellings I so frequently have, well they do nothing to bring me peace, but it is something I cannot change. I dwell on many things that are otherwise not in my control. Will the bookstore do well today? Will I make a profit? Will I go bankrupt? Will I lose everything I have worked tirelessly in making? Am I hugging my children enough? Too much? Am I doing this, that, and the other thing wrong? Is my advice unworthy of being taken seriously? Why can I not follow my own advice? Am I truly this damaged person that will forever, and always be, second best and lost?
I am constantly wanting to find happiness, I seek it out in every little thing I do. Whether it be in the food I make, the dress I pick out, the person I smile at, and the strangers I chat with. To have so much, yet feel as if I have so little, it is nothing short of ridiculous. Robert and I have fallen apart, drifted apart even. Our friendship that was once so strong in its foundation has slowly cracked and begun to crumble. He is busy all the time now it seems, and though I do not expect him to be around me all the time, it would be nice to know that he is still my friend.
Friend. Friends. Is it wrong to feel as if I have only but a few? These days I am finding myself more alone. Jasper has moved out back into his apartment, though I constantly worry if allowing him to do so was a good idea on my part. But, he is an adult and I cannot control him, plus I fear he will someday resent me for being so overprotective. I just love him so much, Bryson, so much that I want to save him from any demons that lurk in the darkness. Whether it be depression, sadness, or even his biological father, I want him to be alright and spared of any harsh emotions he may find himself suffering. I digress, however. I have not spoken to Florence since she departed, though I miss her everyday. Aside from you. she was my confidant and best mate. I loved her, I still do. I suppose it is true, that saying, you know? When something you have is finally gone, you realize just how much they truly meant to you. Of course, I completely reworded that, hah!
I am doing my best to reach out to people. Recently, Hollis Ellison has become pregnant and I am wanting to do my utmost at helping. She is so young, eighteen. I was not there for Mila, I am hoping to somehow right a wrong I feel that I have done. Be there for people, that is. It keeps me occupied I realized, helping others. I want to be loved and relied upon for whatever reason, maybe due to my own insecurities. Mum did not seem to want me, my father passed away when I was seven, and all relationships I have had met an untimely demise due to change. Ugh, there is that word again, yeah? Change.
I am trying to bridge the gap between my Mum and I. I have started calling her, regularly, checking up on her. She seems well and her anger has seemed to subside. Perhaps all this time she too was lonely. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, yes?
This letter has no real purpose, at least I do not think it does. I just missed you and missed being able to talk to someone about anything and know they are listening. Sometimes I find myself walking about, staring at people wanting to shout out: "DO YOU SEE ME? DO YOU HEAR ME?"
I cry a lot these days, when nobody is around or when I am in my office or alone in my home. The happiness my children bring me is extraordinary, yet there is a gap in my soul, that missing piece that has yet to make me whole. I feel as if Robert was one of the last pieces to my puzzle and he fit perfectly, if only he had been the final piece. Unfortunately, he was a few off. I think I am waiting for my story to be finished, curious as to how it will all end. Happily never after? Or the opposite? I have contemplated many times about selling my store, my home, and moving back to London, though that would do nothing but create havoc for Candice, Jasper, Caden. Am I still so lost? Just when you and I think we have solved the problem, I am an unsolvable mystery it seems.
Who knows. Maybe I am just waiting. I am awaiting the day that someone walks through my door, perhaps into my life, and I finally feel happy.
I love you and miss you so my blood brother, my Fred Weasley. Maybe you will walk through that door someday. Give the kids and Jensen hugs and kisses for me. Tell them I love them and I shall speak to you soon.
Forever your best friend and blood-brother,
Mandy
George
