Dear Clark

Dear Clark,

I cried three times today. And honestly, it feels like I've been crying for months now, even in moments when my eyes are dry. I can be smiling, talking, walking, and yet inside me the tears keep flowing. The truth is, I feel restless, like I'm carrying this weight that won't let me breathe fully. Sometimes it feels like I'm dying not because of the cancer I know is waiting but because of the silence you left behind, the way you took so much of my heart with you when you walked away.

I miss you, Clark. I miss you in ways words can't capture, in ways that feel like suffocating. I miss the small, ordinary things: the way you'd hold my hand when I was anxious, the way you'd reassure me with a look, the way you'd laugh at my little silliness, or how you'd tell me "good night" before sleep as if that ritual itself could protect me from bad dreams. I miss being wrapped in the comfort of knowing that no matter how messy or painful life was, you were right there beside me.

Now, you're not.

And hearing that you're back in the Philippines only makes the ache sharper. Someone said they saw you, that you moved about in the morning like life was just continuing for you. And I believe it. You're here again, in the same country, maybe even not too far away, under the same heavy August sky, but still, you feel unreachable. You're here, but not here with me. And that is a kind of torture I don't know how to put into words.

Sometimes I tell myself it shouldn't matter. That even if you're here or far away in Canada, nothing has changed: you don't want me in your life anymore. But my heart doesn't listen. It keeps searching for you, aching for you, hoping in its weakest corners that maybe you'll remember me when you see something familiar, like the tulips, or when you hear a song we once shared, or even when you see Phineas, our first baby plushie, the one that felt like our "child."

Do you remember Phineas, Clark? I don't know if you read it or ignored it. I didn't expect a reply. I just wanted you to remember. That silly plushie was the beginning of how I felt like I was building a little family with you. Just us, simple, but mine, real. And I miss that. I miss the feeling of belonging somewhere, of being someone's person. I miss being yours.

Today, I feel more restless than ever. Maybe because I barely slept. I stayed awake until almost one in the morning, and woke up around 6:40 AM, my body refusing to rest. My mind kept circling back to you. I kept wondering if you're sleeping well, if you're driving somewhere, if you're eating breakfast, if you're smiling at something. And then I realized how unfair it is, that I think of you constantly, and yet I don't even know if I cross your mind anymore.

And then, there's my health. You weren't there to hold my hand this time, to tell me "Everything's going to be okay" like you used to. I sat there alone, wishing for you, picturing you beside me, but knowing I was only fooling myself. I'm scared, Clark, though maybe not in the way you'd think. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid if this cancer takes me away sooner than I planned. I'm afraid of facing all this without you. You were the person I imagined would hold me when I broke down, would drive me home from appointments, would tell me that I could get through it. You were the one I thought would stay, no matter what. But here I am, still alive, still breathing, and yet without you. And this kind of life, it feels heavier than the fear of death itself.

I think back to everything we shared. The timeline of us is etched into me like a storybook I cant close. Every date is a wound, Clark. Every memory is both a gift and a knife. Because they remind me I was loved, but also that I lost it.

Sometimes I wonder if you think of these things too. Or if you've tucked them away neatly in a corner of your mind you never visit anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I ever made the kind of mark on you that you made on me. And maybe I'll never know. Maybe that's part of the punishment: loving someone so much but never knowing if they still carry even an ounce of it after they leave.

I'm not angry at you anymore. I think I was, for a while. Angry that you left, angry that you didn't fight, angry that you let me go so easily. But now, all that's left is longing. All that's left is sadness and this unshakable ache. Because I know love isn't enough, not when mistakes pile up, not when trust is broken, not when life pulls people in different directions. I know we didn't survive. But knowing doesn't make missing you any easier.

Clark, if these words ever reach you, I hope you'll understand that I'm not asking for you back. I'm not trying to intrude on your life. I'm just trying to breathe through this pain. I'm just trying to find a way to say goodbye, even though my heart refuses to.

But before I let go, before I close this letter, I need you to know something. If death comes to me sooner than later, if I don't wake up one day, I want you to remember me as the woman who loved you fiercely, even imperfectly. I want you to know that you were my comfort, my home, my laughter, my safe place. You were the one I prayed for and the one I still whisper to at night. You were my Phineas nights, my tulips, my road trips, my tears, and my dreams. You were it for me, Clark. You always will be.

So tonight, as I lay my restless heart down, I whisper the only truth I know:
I miss you.
I love you.
Always, still, and maybe forever.

Always,
Alyssa (Phineas, Arlo, Fifi, and Mang)

Last updated on:2025-08-20T04:33:02+05:30