August 24, 2010

Dear Catnip,

How long has it been since I called you that? Three years? Four? Five? I lost count. The millitary doesn't think in years. They talk about today, tommorow, next week and occasionally, next month. I gave up going to the meetings a long time ago and they gave up calling me. I guess all I do now is build. I build traps so big they can catch huge armies. I create snares so clever no one would know they are even there, even if they are already caught in it.

Amazing how time changed us, eh, Catnip? If we had all these things back when we were kids, we wouldn't have gone hungry, not for a day. Would that have changed what happened between us, I wonder. Maybe not. Maybe Prim's name, dear Prim, was always destined to be picked and you were always destined to be reaped. Fate sure screws with us, huh? I had 42 slips in the damn bowl. You had, what, 24? But Prim got picked. Prim, who only had one. That's when all this crap started.

I never told you how it felt watching you in the Games. I'll tell you now: it was torture. Every time you were in danger, every time you were hurt, every time some jerk came after you, I wanted to jump through the screen and save you. I wanted to murder every other tribute for you. I wanted to assasinate those Capitol idiots who called this entertainment. I would have slaughtered for you, no doubt about it. But I only learnt how far I would go for you when it happened. You and Peeta. Peeta and you. Fake, real, pretend, acting, whatever it was, it hurt.

I knew that jerk loved you. Who didn't? Everyone saw how he stared at you, like some lost puppy finding its momma or something. The other guys kept away from you because they knew I'd pummel them if they as much as laid their eyes on you. He did too. But at the Games, he sure had the time of his life. Every time you touched him, kissed him, said you loved him, I swear I could have ran all the way to the Capitol and snatched you out of his thieving arms myself. He knew, your stupid fiance knew how I felt about you. But he didn't care. Neither did you.

Then, you came home, telling everyone how it was all an act. I was relieved, angry, sad and confused all at once. I didn't know what to do with myself or how I felt about you. But then again, I never did. Still, the feeling, that stupid feeling of utter idiocity had gotten worse. You weren't Catnip anymore, you weren't the Katniss I had fallen in love with. You didn't see yourself. There were times when you looked lost, confused and tired, like you didn't know where this was, who we were, who you were. Then sometimes you looked like you did in the Games, fiery, protective and angry. But still, I loved you anyway.

Then, the Games came again. And it was the same torture again. Watching people hunt you down, watching inhuman things torture you, watching you care for the jerk again. But this time I knew, no doubt about it, it was real. You loved him. He loved you. Whoop-de-freaking-doo.

You came home broken. Scratch that, we didn't have a home any more did we? There wasn't a shadow left of the Katniss I knew before the Games. I was different too, I know. But still I loved you. But you were untouchable, fragile, and stone-hearted all at the same time. We fought side by side but it was different. You were the Mockingjay. I was your 'cousin'. In other words, I was nobody. Then, I started making military traps and some how, everything got worse.

I never meant to hurt Prim, Katniss. You know that don't you? When I designed the trap, I only wanted to destroy the Capitol . Tear down everything it stood for and build a paradise for you in its place. I never, ever imagined the opposite would happened. I destroyed the very hope of anything happening between us and just helped another tyrant take the Capitol's place.

I was stupid. I was egoistic. I was proud. You were stubborn. You were broken. You were grieving. We would have made one hell of a couple, don't you think? I couldn't face you after all that. I could look you in the eye and say sorry, forgive me, I didn't mean it or whatever else would have poured out of my mouth when I met you. So I started writing this letter.

I'm still writing it, god knows how long since I started. I can't forget you. I can't get the memory of you out of my head. I still remember how you used to look when you talked about your father, all defensive and yet scared at the same time. How you looked when you stepped in front of Prim, throwing your arms out, making sure no one, no one, took your baby sister away. How fierce you were in the Games. How empty afterward. I'd lie awake at night and imagine touching your face, tracing the shape of your eyes, your nose, your lips. Running my fingers through your hair. Holding you close to me. What hurts the most is I know he gets to that to you. He gets to hold you, touch tou, feel you, love you.

I don't have much left to say, Katniss. I'm a shell of who I used to be, here in District 2, here in the military. I don't even know whether I'll send this letter to you. But I want to tell you something one last time. I love you, Katniss. I still do. I never stopped. Every day I think of you. Every single day. And I only have one more question: Will you marry me?

I know you have him, but I want I need you Katniss. Help me. Say yes. Leave him. We'll leave Panem like we wanted to all those years ago. This time we won;t have our kids, we won't have our parents. We could have our own lives, far away from the Capitol, the Districts, the pain, the memories. We could have a family or just live alone, whichever you want. You could sing in the wilderness, to the birds. You would like that, won't you, Katniss? Singing in the wild air of the mountains, in places we haven't seen before. Your father would have too.

So, marry me Katniss. Please, I'm begging you. I don't have anything left anymore. Just you. Only you. Rory, Vick and Posy are all grown up, living their own lives, building their own futures, having their own 's in the military too. Vick's in District 4, catching fish, would you believe it? Posy's in the Capitol, doing fashion, like Octavia. My mother, she 's travels between the districts and the Capitol, living the life she always wanted. She visits sometimes, but not often. So you see, Katniss, I have nothing left, nothing but you.

Marry me, please. I might come and give you this letter myself if I'm brave enough. Maybe I'll even say these words. But I haven't left this mountain for so long so maybe you'd only read these words. But marry me, Katniss. Marry me.

Yours, then, now, forever and always,

Gale Hawthorn.

A heartbeat, then two. You don't know it, but I still love you.