Chapter Text
Hello. I hope somebody is listening.
[...]
February. I hope you are well.
And when I speak of ‘you’, I know who I am talking to.
So often was I scared that my idea of you, February, was something of the past.
It may be. Until I hear from you, I shall never know what you get up to. The thought continues to consume me.
But what does this matter, I realised, when you don’t know who I am anymore?
I write to you, February, so often. Whether they reach you or not, whether they end up in the fire or return from its ashes, barely a word tells you of me. Of who I am now … Only words of the City, or contacts, or you. And you know who you are. Well, I hope that you do.
I suppose a part of me still believes I am the same as the day you left me. But that’s not true, is it?
You must think I look the same. Feel the same. Do the same things. Live the same life.
What subtle changes for me will feel life-changing for you to find out?
I suppose I have no choice but to list some.
I learned how to fix a radio. I don’t think I had nearly enough independence to do something like that before you left. Or before Thalia showed me how to, really.
Maybe surprising to you, but my hair is pink. It wasn’t when I last saw you, right? That has to be right… I only remember buying hair dye in the City. I suppose I’m not too sure when the first ever time was.
Ah, my bike…! My lunar bike, that I use to ride around the City. I doubt you would be able to recognise me, February, with my helmet on. Not that you would see me in the first place…
I hope that you do. From your place in the sky, I hope that you do.
I suppose if you can return from the ashes maybe I can see you before you turn to dust and are once again reborn. Would you still remember me?
Perhaps, February, you do not reside in the City’s stars. After all, if you did, you would know of me now, no? I would not have to explain all that I have.
I always believed that you knew you had to get out when you could. I always wondered what you knew.
That’s what has changed of me, February. I would have left. Just as you did. The me I am now would have left when they could. And now, I can’t.
But we are in the future now. It is only my fault that I did not foresee it.
In the end, I am still me, February. Still the Radio you knew when you left. If I am honest, I haven’t recognised myself since. For when I see you once more, I will finally be myself again.
[...]