Testament
(Inserted between the front flap and first page of Mike's journal, clearly written more recently than the rest)
If you're reading this, I'm probably not around anymore. I'm sorry about that, because I guess that must be rough. I didn't want to go. There's a lot here that I would have preferred to stick with. But we don't get to make that choice, and anyway I always knew this was coming, sometime.
What's in here, mostly, is memories. Some of it is my life before this. Some of it is even my life before the Realm, though a lot of the time those parts feel like they happened to someone else now. I want my daughters to see it, but not all of it, not right away, because some of it doesn't make me look good, and they won't be able to understand it until later. Use your own best judgment there. They know their father wasn't a monster. What they might not be able to get until they're older is that for a while he was, and sometimes people do horrible things that don't end up defining who they can be. That's a thing they should know, but it's a hard thing. It took me years to learn it.
Tom, Neil, whatever is in here for the girls is also for you. Some of it is just for you alone. You'll be able to tell which parts those are pretty easily, I think. I hope, the important things, I found ways to say out loud and not just in here. But there's a lot. And I feel like I'm running very short on time now. I know neither of you like when I talk like that, but this time there's no kidding around. In a few days I might pull this letter out or rewrite it. But right now it feels like it needs to be here.
I won't tell you to not be sad because that's stupid. But you need to know: I had so much more life than I ever thought I would. And wherever I am now, if there is anywhere after this, I think it's probably a good place. Not because I earned it, because I couldn't. But because I do think, now, that we all get that. We all get to be okay in the end.
I love you, so much. Love like that doesn't just go away. It can't. There's too much of it.
I'll see you.
-M
If you're reading this, I'm probably not around anymore. I'm sorry about that, because I guess that must be rough. I didn't want to go. There's a lot here that I would have preferred to stick with. But we don't get to make that choice, and anyway I always knew this was coming, sometime.
What's in here, mostly, is memories. Some of it is my life before this. Some of it is even my life before the Realm, though a lot of the time those parts feel like they happened to someone else now. I want my daughters to see it, but not all of it, not right away, because some of it doesn't make me look good, and they won't be able to understand it until later. Use your own best judgment there. They know their father wasn't a monster. What they might not be able to get until they're older is that for a while he was, and sometimes people do horrible things that don't end up defining who they can be. That's a thing they should know, but it's a hard thing. It took me years to learn it.
Tom, Neil, whatever is in here for the girls is also for you. Some of it is just for you alone. You'll be able to tell which parts those are pretty easily, I think. I hope, the important things, I found ways to say out loud and not just in here. But there's a lot. And I feel like I'm running very short on time now. I know neither of you like when I talk like that, but this time there's no kidding around. In a few days I might pull this letter out or rewrite it. But right now it feels like it needs to be here.
I won't tell you to not be sad because that's stupid. But you need to know: I had so much more life than I ever thought I would. And wherever I am now, if there is anywhere after this, I think it's probably a good place. Not because I earned it, because I couldn't. But because I do think, now, that we all get that. We all get to be okay in the end.
I love you, so much. Love like that doesn't just go away. It can't. There's too much of it.
I'll see you.
-M