Dearest (teaser)

My name is Noelle Peters and this is the story of how Simon Dardole and I fell in love.

That is the first of many lies you are going to read.

Simon is dead.

That is a truth.

And since Simon is dead, I feel I can tell the truth about this story.

My name is Noelle Peters and this is the story of how Simon Dardole fell in love with me, and I told him I felt the same.  I decided it was crueler to tell the truth to a dying friend than to lie to him, so I did just that.  I lied.

I think it's best that you know all this up front:  I never loved Simon Dardole, though you are going to read an account where in the days leading up to his death, I said I did many times.  In those last days, my dearest friend created a gift for me, and it is this story, meant to serve as an everlasting token of his affection for me.  He stayed in bed with his father's tape recorder and recounted our short-lived romance.  I've written it here verbatim.  

I thought about what to do with the recordings for a long time, and I am ashamed to say that it took many years of guilt before I decided that the only proper thing to do was to share the tapes and reveal that I never loved him.  Why is that the appropriate option?  It is the only way I feel I can ever ask for your forgiveness.  I do not regret the choice that I made, but the remorse of telling such a lie (and then getting away with it) is incomparable.   I'm sure I could have just told you that I lied, and we could have moved on, but I want you to understand that while I was never in love with Simon, I did love him dearly.  Without Simon's own words, I don't think you would have found it in your heart to believe me.  I've lied once and kept it secret for ages; what says I won't do it again?  I lied to you with my first sentence.

You will find here a multitude of flattering descriptions about me, and you will find a great many words dedicated to Simon's love for me.  He has painted a beautiful portrait, beautiful and false.  He has made a great fiction of me.  It's sickening in a way.

I do not expect you to think highly of me while you read, and I do not fault you.  I only ask that in the end, you consider forgiveness.  Simon was a great friend, and I miss him with all my heart.