umbraimposter asked:

"Your foolish pride endangered the lives of your entire army, and yet you still believe yourself to be righteous."

(oh god he’ll be ruined ;a;) 

     The words stung in Link’s chest like a dagger, twisting into his mind and invading his thoughts. He hadn’t endangered them—-Had he? No, he worked to keep them safe…Right? He had done his best, no, better than his best. He had done all he could, and saved more than the army…But what about those he hadn’t saved? The ones who died in the cause regardless? What about them? Could he have done better? 

No, don’t listen to them. Stop it, you did your best…You did all you could…

Who’s to say I believe myself to be anything?” He tried not to look too hurt.

I am not mad at you.
If anything I’m mad at myself.
I’m the one that messed things up
and I put the twist in our friendship.

My thoughts put my mind at ease
and I listened to those fantasies.
In the moment I felt unbreakable
But now I’m disabled.

We’ll turn our pages
and move on with life.
We’ll learn to forget
and new memories will mold.

My mind told me that you were the one
but I should have listened to reality instead.
And unlike these fantasies
there was no happy ending here.

I am not mad at you.
And it is not your fault.
I am mad at myself
because I put twist in our friendship.

People have told me that writing a letter could help. So let me try. Firstly, I’m devastated. So unbelievably, bitterly devastated that sometimes it hurts my ribcage to merely suck in oxygen. My mind twists and sobs at the thought of you. Of you, walking down the sidewalk knowing you were going to leave me. Of you, asking me to “stay friends”. Of you, moving on, living life and me, having absolutely no idea what you are doing anymore. That’s what we loved the most isn’t it - Knowing exactly where the other was. All the time. I used to know your University schedule as if it was my own To Do list. Now? Nothing. Secondly, I’m angry as fuck. I’m angry you dragged me through your pathetic idea of commitment. I spit at the thought of you breathing without me. I’m so incomprehensibly pissed off that you have left me alone when you made me feel so complete and so alive and so whole again. How could you do that? How could you do it to me? You know me. You had me. I don’t understand how you can just walk away from something like that. From incessant messaging, and scratchy phone calls, and droopy eyed Tuesday evenings. Why? Really, why? But then, hanging sadly over all of that bullshit, is relief. Relief that I don’t have to prove myself anymore. Relief that without having someone that close, no one can hurt me like you could anymore. No one can make me feel unwanted, imperfect, immature. No one has the power to make me dissolve into tears just seconds after you’ve kissed me goodbye. You can’t touch me anymore. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s revenge enough for us both. For I, I will be okay. My sparkle will come back. But you? You will always be lonely, always searching for a part of you that doesn’t exist. For love is illogical. It is blind feeling. And that is something you will never, ever be able to comprehend.
—  My letter to you, H.