Letter 104

10 July 2016

Dear C,

I am trying so hard not to swallow the chunks of regret. The more I eat them the less I can breathe. They are always being served to me the way that I just let it happen. I always have them at night before my tired eyes finally close for a few hours.

It's a Sunday evening now and I'm locked in my cell. I often get the feeling that these walls closing around me and the room itself become smaller and smaller. It's probably just my paranoia, but it feels quite real at times.

Twice over this passing weekend, I dreamt of you. On both occasions when I woke up I crumbled. It is still so hard to accept reality. I wake up every day and face the morning light but inside of me, there is so much darkness consuming my spirit, that I often feel like just ending it all.

Each night I am scared of falling asleep, as I don't know what dreams or rather nightmares are awaiting me. Then they affect me a lot and I hate it.

These days jogging become a struggle for me. I cannot seem to motivate myself anymore. I hope it will pass.

Today at lunchtime a guy called Junior came to my cell and asked me to write a statement for him. He was accused of being homophobic towards somebody and he wanted me to state that he has never been homophobic towards me. And that is true. He is a big, black guy with muscles bigger than my legs and surely, he can come across as very intimidating. I, however, never found him this way. So I made that statement for him, as everything I wrote there was true. He was very appreciative.

And then a funny thing happened when the lunch was served. He works in the distribution of food and today he was in charge of the fruit section. They had two options today: oranges or bananas. The oranges here are really sour or bitter. We get one daily and I often don't eat them. On the other hand, bananas are like liquid gold here. I think it was the second or third time they had them here - so you can imagine the excitement. I was trying not to show how happy I was, that there was a good chance I could eat a banana instead of an orange, but truly - inside I was jumping for joy. And I know how silly it may sound to you C, but this is the reality.

Anyway, Junior was in charge of giving the fruit and I could tell how he was giving the bananas to his buddies and oranges to other inmates. And guess what I got? A bloody orange! He looked at me and handed me an orange... And he did that right after me writing that statement for him, saving his ass from probably being locked up in the segregation unit for the next 2 weeks. I must say I felt really disappointed. I know, I know... I should have learnt by now that I mustn't expect anything from anyone, but I really wanted to eat that banana. How pathetic it sounds... I know. But that is my life here and the little things like this get to me.

When I was eating my lunch I don't know why I started thinking about the day when you and I went to that Polish restaurant in South Kensington. You loved the food so much. I still remember you had a duck and we had some pierogis too. And the apple pie!

What a day it was! I remember how we said that we would spend 24 hours with each other to see if we could still enjoy each other's company - and if so - it would be a clear sign that we should start officially dating. Of course, we enjoyed each other's company, didn't we?

We ended up at Starbucks somewhere in central London and we were the last customers to leave - as always. We took a photo of us drinking coffee and later we framed it and have it hung on the wall in our flat in Wandsworth.

I wonder if you still sometimes think of me... Or the times we spent together. The little joys we shared together, so precious like diamonds.

Today Steve and Andy came to see me and they both think that I should publish these letters as a book. A few days ago I gave Andy one of the letters to read and I asked him what he thought about it. He was actually very touched and even shared a few tears. He hugged me and said he was sorry for everything that had happened to me. He kept encouraging me and said that publishing a book is a must for me. Who knows, maybe one day I will.

I don't know anything about publishing books, I don't even know anybody who could help me. And I don't even know if there would be anyone interested in reading these letters...

But as always - time will tell.

Forever yours,

Sebastian