I’ll never forget your eyes. The emotions they represented right before I wrapped my hands round your neck will forever be in my memory, chasing me down like it will change anything. Never have I ever seen such a mixture of emotions, as if you didn’t even know what to feel.
That night I saw fear and despair, but mostly confusion. I had never seen someone looking so confused before, and I don’t think I ever will again. With your eyebrows slightly furrowed and the question marks in your eyes, I knew you didn’t understand.
It wasn’t an accident; it wasn’t because I had no choice. I could’ve let you walk out of that door if I wanted to, but I didn’t.
Even now that you’re gone, I can’t forget your eyes. In a second you managed to ask me thousands of questions, all beginning with the little word why. It’s been a few days now, but still, your eyes are begging me to answer, gripping me by my neck when I don’t. I need those questions out of my head before they will start suffocating me.
This letter began as something for you, something to free you from all your questions, but right now I don’t know anymore. Maybe I was just doing this to talk away my own guilt.
It doesn’t really matter anyway. Either way, I’m sitting here, in the weak light of the evening sky with my usual black pen in my hands and a story in my head, one that has to be told, even if the one who’s listening is dead.
Inside this envelope, you’ll find everything you need to know. You’ll find all the answers you want, but most importantly: you’ll discover why I’ve killed you.