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Dear Thomas


                                                          7th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,

 

I know it’s been a while since I've written to you, but I think I'm ready to talk about everything you said to me. The other night was just so weird for me to process at that moment, I've kind of been stuck and I'm not too sure how to address everything over a stupid letter. 

 

I think we need to talk this through properly- in person. It's just hard to imagine things changing between us and I don’t want you to misinterpret anything I write to you. 

 

I shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

 

If you would like to, please meet me in Hyde Park tomorrow, before your appointment so we can just get things straight.  

 

I really miss talking to you, Tom.  

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x 


 

                                                                                                                 9th May 1954

Dear Thomas, 

 

I'm so sorry for upsetting you. 

 

I'm not really sure why you didn’t come yesterday but if you are still upset about everything, I totally understand.  

 

Maybe I just didn’t see you, or you woke up late and had to rush to your doctor's appointment, but I just wanted to know if you need more time to think about things. 

 

I'm not mad at you at all. I understand that I wanted to distance myself for a while so you have no obligation to just meet me now that I’m ready. I should've accounted for your feelings when I make that decision, but I was being selfish and stupid. I'm afraid my mistake may have cost me our friendship. 

 

I think I'm just overthinking as usual. 

 

If you have the time, can you please reply just saying where we stand at the moment? I know I'm in no position to ask that, but I just need clarity for the time being.  

 

I hope your appointment went well!  

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x 


 

                                                                                                                 11th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I know these letters are probably getting really annoying and I should probably just take the hint that you don’t want to talk, but I keep thinking about everything.  

 

I know I hurt you the other night, but I genuinely wasn’t thinking right. I feel like an idiot for even suggesting time apart because, in all honesty, you're the only person who ever makes me feel like myself. Tom, you're my best friend above all and I will always feel the need to look out for you, but I feel like you want me out of your life for good.  

 

Maybe you think it's for the best, which I can't blame you for, but I'm just so confused at the moment because that night you said it was fine and that you didn’t hate me for wanting space, so I don’t understand what's happened in the few days that we haven't spoken.  

 

I don’t want to be a burden, which is why you need to tell me to leave you alone so I stop clogging up your porch with these dumb letters. If you don’t want to talk to me directly, please just get Charlie to tell me.  

 

I know what I did was wrong but you're not completely innocent either. Please don’t keep me in the dark after being friends for 11 years. 

 

I'm going to talk to Charlie tomorrow and see if he’s heard anything from you. 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x


                                                                                                                 13th May 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

I went to see Charlie yesterday and he told me that you haven't even mentioned what happened between us to him. I don’t know how to interpret that if I'm honest, but I'm assuming you just didn't want to talk about it to anyone. I tried to be as brief with him as possible because I don’t want to embarrass you. I feel like that’s something you should tell your brother on your own. I don’t want to overstep. 

 

I know it's not my business anymore considering you don’t want to talk to me but, why didn’t you go to your appointment? It couldn’t have been that bad and you know your doctor likes you to keep him in the loop with your progress, it seems unfair to do that when your family is so worried about you.  

 

I think you should go and visit them; your mum seems worried and I think Charlie wants you to meet his girlfriend. She seems sweet, very shy, but still sweet.  

 

If I'm being honest, Tom, I'm starting to worry too. I feel like it's gone on long enough with the silent treatment and I keep blaming myself for it all. I understand I hurt you but you also can't expect me to react normal after such a bombshell.  

 

I don’t think I deserve to be ignored for needing time to figure things out.  

 

Please reply soon. 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x 

 

 

                                                                                                                                           24th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

It's been a while since I last wrote. I was going to leave our (very much one-sided) conversation at my last letter but Charlie came to see me this morning.  

 

He said that you told him everything that happened and were going away for the week to get some space. I think that’s a good idea for you to just take a break from London, but it's not safe to go that far away from your doctor alone, can you not take Charlie with you? I'm sure he would love to go to the beach for a week after just passing his exams. 

 

At the end of the day though, you are an adult now and can make your own choices, and I'm sure you have considered your treatment for the week while away. I'm just being paranoid.  

 

Anyway, I think I needed that clarity from Charlie to know that you're okay. He said you saw the letters but didn't want to give me the wrong impression? I don’t really understand what you meant but I suppose you will elaborate on that after you get back. Until then, I don't think I'll write to you, considering you won't see it, but I'm just happy to know you're okay.  

 

Please write to me when you get home so we can arrange to meet up! 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x



                                                                                                                                              2nd June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

It's been few days after you should've come home and I've still heard nothing from you? Are you busy settling back in? It's only been a week so I'm not too sure how to take the lack of letters. 

 

I've been so excited to talk to you because I thought you’d be replying to me now that you’ve had your break. You probably just haven't got around to writing a stupid letter but I hope this one serves as a little reminder that I'm still here.  

 

I hope your holiday went well! 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x

                                                                                                                    10th June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

It's been weeks.  

 

I'm getting really fed up of sending you these stupid letters and getting nothing back from you. 

I know I hurt you, but this silent treatment feels so stupid. It hurts not getting any form of response and I'm sick of it. I feel like you’ve completely pushed me to the side and left me in the dark about this whole situation. 

 

I'm sorry, Tom. I really am, but I don’t see how you can tell me you're in love with me and then suddenly drop me off like I'm nothing to you. You’re making me feel like a burden and, after 11 years of friendship, I feel like I at least deserve a simple letter telling me you don’t want us to talk anymore. 

 

I've been so patient with you for so long. 

 

I don’t think you're looking at things from my stand point. You tell me you’ve been in love with me for years and that you don’t think you can bare me not knowing how you feel, then expect me to react normally to that?  

 

I've known you since I was 8 and, to me, it seems like our whole friendship was a lie. I feel like you were just friends with me because you fancied me, and as soon as I tell you I need to think about everything you said, you drop me and leave me in the dark for just over a month? It seems like you’ve just dropped me because you thought u didn’t have a chance with me.  

 

I'm done sending you letters, Tom. If you want to reply, you can, but don’t expect a response unless it's you asking to meet in person. I'm sick of feeling like a pest and sick of getting no sleep over you.  

 

I really hope you didn’t intend for me to feel like this, you will always be my friend but I need you to stop treating me as though I'm insignificant. 

 

I'm not begging anymore. 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x


                                                                                                                    23rd June 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

Charlie told me you aren't coming home. Apparently, you never planned to.

  

I'm assuming you never read my last few letters either, which makes me feel more of an idiot now than I did before considering I'm writing a letter that you're not going to read.  

 

You know something really frustrating, Tom? You also lied to Charlie about not going to your doctor's appointment. He called the doctors and, considering you're an adult, they couldn’t even tell him what the doctor told you.  

 

He came to me crying, Tom. He doesn’t know what's going on with you and he’s blaming himself. He’s only young and he’s going through such a stressful time waiting on his exam results, now his Ill brother is refusing to come home.  

 

If you told him what the doctor said, I'm sure the reaction wouldn’t be bad, even though I wouldn’t know since you haven't even bothered to tell me you're not coming home, let alone about your appointment. 

 

I just want you to come home. We haven't spoken at all since you told me you loved me and I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall. Or nothing at all for that matter. I wish you would've just met up with me from the start and maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. Is it my fault you're not coming home? Are you not coming home ever or just for a while?  

 

I won't get an answer and I'm okay with that, but I think the reason I'm even writing this is to show myself that I can stop thinking about you properly. Or maybe it's just because, even though I said I could, I don’t think I can stop ‘talking to you’. 

 

If I was sure that you were reading this, I would tell you that you're stupid and I miss you. But since you aren't, I think I'll just keep imagining that you are. 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x


 

                                                                                                                 25th June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

Doctor Brown called your mum today on an emergency check. Why didn’t you tell us it was terminal? 

 

He called your mum and Charlie yesterday on an emergency call. He told them he thought you were vulnerable if they didn't get in contact soon. He thinks you're going to end it yourself, before the cancer does. 

 

I don’t think you understand how hard this has been to process. Charlie was the one who has to break the news to me and he was inconsolable. He must've cried for hours and practically begged for me to let him stay here for a while because he can't bear to go home right now.  

 

I've just managed to get him to go to sleep on the setee and I'm now sat in my room trying to force out tears. I need to cry but I just can't. I've tried everything, I'm so frustrated with this whole thing. 

 

I have no idea whether I'm going to talk to you again or if we are ever going to sort this.  

 

For God’s sake, Tom, come home and sort this out. Stop being so irrational and actually grasp how much you are hurting people. You are being so selfish for no reason. You’ve got me writing pathetic letters that no one's going to read because I can't even think about not talking to you.  

 

I need you to come home. I need to talk to you about this. We can find a solution, Tom. I have no doubt about it, but if you don’t come home ill have no way of fixing anything. 

 

I feel helpless and I hate it. 

 

Please, don’t do anything stupid.  

Love, 

Vienna.  x

 

 

 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I'm so stuck, Tom. I'm so stuck.  

 

I can't sleep. Please come home. 

 

I'm sorry for everything I said.  

 

I wish you were reading this. 

 

 


 

Dear Thomas, 

 

Why am I even writing this?  

 

I keep trying to stop but I'm so worried and I don’t know what to do.  

 

Charlie moved back home today. I'm alone, Tom.  

 

I'm blaming myself and I need you to come home. 

 

I don’t know what you're planning but whatever it is, please don’t do it. 

 

I'm scared you're leaving me like this.  

 

I don’t want you to. 

 

 

 

 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I'm tired, Tom. You need help. 

 

Please don’t do this.


 

                                                                                                                                                             18th July 1954 

Dear Vienna, 

 

I know you only heard the news yesterday but I think we need to go to Tom’s flat.  

 

My mum doesn’t want to go with me so I thought you would.  

 

I don’t want to go on my own. 

 

From, 

Charlie. 

 

                                                                                                                                                                          20th July 1954

Dear Tom, 

 

I found the letter you left in your flat. I'm not really sure why you never gave it to her but I suppose you had your reasons.  

 

I don’t even know why I'm writing this but, since Vienna does it, I thought it might help me try to understand why you did what you did.  

 

The police came round a few days ago and told us what happened. I guess Dr Brown was wrong, you didn’t kill yourself, you just gave up. Cancer sucks, Tom, that’s why I'm not mad at you. Being mad wouldn’t solve anything, it wouldn’t bring you back.  

 

Maybe if you stayed at home, this whole thing would've been easier to deal with, but didn’t even get to say goodbye to you properly. We could've spent so much time together before anything happened, we could've stayed up late like we did when we were kids and talked all night. There's so much I want to talk to you about. 

 

I feel like I've got this sort of responsibility to take your place in everyone's lives, which is why I've been spending so much time with Vienna. Don’t get me wrong, she's been a great with this whole thing but I can see her getting worse. Shes spiralling and I'm trying so hard to fill in for you but im not ready. 

 

Going to your flat yesterday was really hard. I saw all the pictures of us that you kept up and I took the ones I liked. The ones I didn’t, I (reluctantly) gave to mum to keep. She thought they were funny. 

 

 I found the letter on the kitchen table before Vienna did, she was too busy trying to figure out where you kept the old toys you shared. She said something about the old spinning tops that you both painted and that she let you keep them. I think she managed to find them in the end. 

 

Leaving a letter was thoughtful of you. You must've really loved her, I'm just sorry that you both didn’t get the happy ending that you wanted because I always thought you two would end up together, mum did too. If I'm honest, I was quite upset that you didn’t write me anything but I can understand why you didn’t. People get busy and I know you always had something going on.  

 

There are so many things I have to update you on, like Mia. Shes my girlfriend and she's been the most stable form of support I've had through all of this, apart from Vienna, but I suppose you

couldn’t really call her stable at the moment. 

 

I feel like you're going to miss so much of my life that I wanted to share with you. I keep thinking of when you said you were going to go suit shopping with me for my prom. I was really looking forward to it, but it's okay, I'm going to wear your old one, if that’s okay? 

Hopefully, in the next life, we will get a chance to grow up the way we should've.  

 

I'm so sorry that I couldn’t be there, Tom. I just hope you're not in pain anymore. 

 

I love you so much. I miss you every day. 

 

Love from,  

 

Charlie. 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                         24th May 1954

Dear Vienna, 

 

I think you deserve some sort of explanation for everything. 

 

I don’t know where to start. 

 

The night that I told you how I felt, I kind of knew that was it for me. The weeks prior I felt myself grow weaker and I knew my time was running short. I didn't need a doctor to tell me that. Yes, I know he’s the professional, but, for once, I think I needed to make my own mind up about my future. 

 

Maybe telling you my reasoning would make you understand me better but, I don’t entirely know it myself. I didn’t want to waste away in this flat, with my mum and brother who I would have to comfort. I know its selfish, but I don’t think I'm capable of helping anyone else when my skin is thinning out. 

 

Maybe I'm being dramatic, but I genuinely think my bones are being shaven down. I wouldn’t say I'm scared, I just don’t want to go out like this. Of course, it's hard to deal with, but I'm doing well. As well as I can be. 

 

I don’t want you to think that I'm ignoring you. I mean, I am. But I'm not doing it to be nasty. 

I got your letter today asking me to take Charlie on my ‘trip’ and asking to meet up. I was planning on replying but I don’t want to give you any false hope about me coming home. There's so much I wish I could tell you right now but it all seems so hard to comprehend myself, let alone someone who isn't in my position.  

 

You’re right, you don’t deserve to be ignored. You don’t deserve any of this, Vi. You deserve to be with someone who will be around for you. Not a sick kid who can't even be brave enough to say goodbye.  

 

I wish I could've been him.  

 

I knew that if I did get a chance to speak to you, you'd talk me out of it, which is why I love you. Even since we were little, you were the only one who I could see myself growing old with. I wish we had more time. I wish I had more time to speak to Charlie. I wish I had time to say goodbye to my mum. I wish my illness didn’t have to result in Charlie having to become the man of the house. 

 

I have so many regrets, Vi. But I'm afraid that not saying goodbye to you will be my biggest one.

  

Everything is so confusing at the movement; I don’t know what's going on but it’ll be okay. I promise. 

 

I love you,

 

Tom. x 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                          23rd July 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

Charlie gave me your letter yesterday.  

 

I wasn’t going to write back or anything but Charlie told me it might help me in the long run.  

Honestly, I'm not too sure what to say. Everything has happened so fast. I don’t know how to feel. 

I hate feeling this conflicted. I can't tell if I'm frustrated in you or myself. I can't tell if the frustration is justified but I can't help but feel it.  

 

This whole thing could've been avoided if you just spoke to me. Why didn’t you speak to me? I know you explained your reasoning for everything but there's still so much we haven't said. 

 

Our spinning tops were in perfect condition when I found them. They were in a box at the back of your wardrobe. I'm glad you kept them. Our names were still painted on them but they had slightly chipped, though I'm sure you knew that already. I also found some of my old shirts you kept in case of emergency. I didn’t have the heart to take them back. It's not like id wear them again anyway.  

 

I haven't slept since Charlie told me what you did. I keep thinking about everything would say if I were given the opportunity. I'd tell you that you were stupid and that I miss you every day. I'd tell you that I love you back and just struggled to figure that out at first. 

 

It's always been you, Tom. When you told me how you felt, I just couldn’t comprehend how much things were going to change. But when we stopped talking, it made me realise how much I do love you and now I'll never get the chance to say it.  

 

I'm so lost. I don’t want this to be how I remember you.  

 

I wish it could've been you too. I wish we could've grown old together and that you didn’t get ill.  what you don’t realise is that it's always been you and it always will be. I wish I could've spoken to you properly about this but it's too late for wishes. 

 

You’ll always be him, Tom. 

 

I love you. I'm not ready to say goodbye. Not over a letter. It's not fair. 

 

I miss you. 

 

Love always, 

 

Vienna.  x 

 



By Katie Barber