Ai Hodnes,
God, I miss you. I wake up every day missing you. There’s a split second after sleep when the memory of your loss escapes me, and then when it hits me it’s like losing you all over again, over and over and over and over. I want to say that is the best part of the day, when I cannot feel your loss, when I am free of this pain, but that would be a lie, because in those moments I lose your memory, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything. I can hear your voice now, all the different voices you had for talking to me in our short time together. There’s the voice from when we first met: you’d probably not say much in that voice, maybe a nod and a murmur of agreement, but nothing more because it made you uncomfortable when I used to talk about my feelings. Then there’s the voice from when we knew each other a little better, when I considered us friends but before we kissed for the first time. That voice would be telling me not to be so dramatic, to focus on what’s ahead of me, that the dead are gone and the living are hungry. I don’t want to talk to that voice right now. It is so hard to think of the living when the only person on my mind is you. Always you. If I could talk to you right now, and I would give anything for that chance, I would want to speak with the last version of you I knew, the one I was completely and utterly in love with. The one I am still completely and utterly in love with. That voice would be soft, caring and concerned. You would stroke my hair and run your hand up my arm and tell me ‘it’s ok to talk about your feelings. I miss you too. I love you.’
And I love you too. Even when I hated you I still loved you. I have a hard time doing anything that is not loving you, sitting here thinking about you, missing you and always, always loving you. I would die for the chance to tell you that. I would say that I wish Titus had hit me like he intended, but then we would still be apart, and that isn’t what I want. I wish Titus had never picked up that gun at all. We would be together, by now. Together, and happy, and living the life we deserve. We’d have the maybe someday that I promised. I miss you.
Everything is normal now. Or as close to normal as anything can be on the ground. Knowing us and our lives on this planet, there is probably another life-threatening danger right around the corner, and Bellamy and Raven and Octavia and I are probably going to have to save everyone all over again. It’s a daunting prospect, but I’m no longer afraid of death. I don’t want to die but living is hard, too. I have lost so much.
Losing you makes me want to believe in a life after death. There were teachers on the Ark who used to tell us things like that. We called it religion. I used to scoff at it, to be honest. The idea of some higher being watching over us and welcoming us with open arms after death seemed like something people afraid of death would tell themselves to make them feel better. But now I get that. It isn’t about being afraid for yourself. It’s about being afraid for others, that they will slip from the grasp of this world and have nothing to greet them. We don’t want to believe that someone could just be gone. I don’t want to believe that you are gone. So I’m choosing not to. I miss you.
If there is a life after death, I wonder what you are doing right now. Probably something very sensible and practical. If heaven is real then it’s probably everything anyone could ever dream of in one place. I bet you can just think of a food you feel like and it will appear. You can probably drink endless alcohol and never get sick. Anya’s probably got hundreds of beautiful horses, and I bet there’s candles every way you turn. You should say hello to Anya for me. She sort of hated me, in fact she definitely hated me, but I like to think we had a kind of understanding and respect for one another. I definitely respected her. She was an incredible woman, strong and brave and determined. She raised you to be the same. I miss her, and I miss you.
I wonder if she knew. I wonder if she looked at me and heard me speak and thought ’Lexa’s screwed.’ You told me she knew you very well. She always looked very suspicious of me, so I wonder if she had a feeling. I’m laughing at that thought. I haven’t laughed in a while. You used to make me laugh so much. You would look at me all serious and tell me to concentrate but I would see the corner of your mouth quirk and know that you found it funny too, and we’d laugh about it later. That was one of my favorite things about you. You had this image that was so important to you, and you maintained it around everyone but me. And when you laughed it sort of sounded like you hadn’t done it that much before in your life, like it was all new to you and you were so incredibly happy about it. Your laugh was beautiful, and I miss it.
Now that everything is normal, it is so hard not to imagine the life we could have had. I know that your responsibility was always to your people, but I know in my heart we would have found a way to make it work. I have this dream. It’s like a recurring daydream, I guess. We’re in your bed, just curled up together after a long day. You are still Heda and I am the Skaikru ambassador and we have spent all day in meetings, dispelling arguments and debating defense tactics with the other ambassadors. But all through the day, when no one is looking, you have been sending me smiles, and I’ve been thinking all day how much I can’t wait to kiss you. So there we are, in your bed, and I can kiss you as much as I like and tell you I love you as many times as I please. And you say it back. And it’s normal. It’s not half-said and withdrawn out of fear. It’s not yelled as a final goodbye in the City of Light. It’s not said in other, more subtle ways. We love each other, and we are free to say it. We have said it before and we will say it again, and I wish I could keep saying it to you forever, wish that we could spend every night like that, just you and me and our love for each other.
I hate that my love is what took you from me. It might be easier to accept if it wasn’t my fault. I feel like we were being punished, maybe. Punished for falling for the wrong person.
But it never felt wrong to me, Lexa. In fact, nothing and no one has ever felt so right. I feel like in a different world we might have been ok. I would be your girl and no one would care and nothing else would matter.
Polaris was a station of the ark, you know. That’s where the name Polis came from. The original commander stole a pod from Polaris station and came to the ground and in the crash the A and the R got wiped off, and Polis was born. Becca. She’s your ancestor. I met her in the City Of Light. She called me Commander but it sounded wrong, because that will always be you. You said your spirit chose wisely in living in me, but I wish your spirit had stayed exactly where it was.
Imagine, though. You and me on the Ark. You would have liked it, I think. We all had jobs, and responsibilities, and chores. You would have been good at all that. You would have been a model youth. Unlike me. I was smart but I liked to go to parties and drink contraband alcohol and then I got arrested and I couldn’t do anything. I would have noticed you, though. My beautiful, brave, smart girl. You would have been as special there as you were here, and we would have been drawn to each other in the sky as we were on the ground. I really, really miss you.
I have to go. Raven needs my help with something. She’s been great. It feels like she’s the only one that understands. She made me a necklace out of the chip, until we can find it a home, so that I can keep you close. I talk to her about you and she listens. She gets it. I miss you.
I hope you’re ok, wherever you are. I hope you’re with Anya and she makes you laugh a lot. That beautiful laugh shouldn’t go to waste. I can’t wait to see you again, one day.
I love you, and it isn't a weakness. Loving you made me strong, and losing you made me brave.
May we meet again.
Forever yours,
Clarke