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letters-from-alex · 7 years

Text

Dear Friend,

Twenty-one days past Christmas. I finally got his present in the mail. I was so excited to give it to him. I tried so hard to get him the perfect gift. I thought about it for weeks. I wanted to get him something I knew he’d use every day in hopes that every time he used it, he’d think of me, just like I think of him every day. I texted him. “Hey, your present came in today! Can I go over to drop it off, or maybe you can stop by to pick it up?” He replied, “I can stop by. Maybe later tonight.” I had to keep myself busy throughout the day. I ran errands for my parents. Checked my phone. Nothing. I cleaned my room. Phone. Nothing. I watched television. Phone. Nothing. I played video games. Phone. Nothing. I listened to music. Phone… Still… Nothing… Time seemed to slow down. It’s been twelve hours. I lost hope… My phone vibrated. Is it him? I thought. I immediately checked my phone. It was him. ”Can I go over?” He asked. I wasn’t doing anything anymore. I was just laying down in bed, thinking like I always do. I didn’t want to seem desperate, so I purposely waited a few minutes before I replied to him. “Yes,” I said. “On my way,” he replied. He only lives a few minutes away, so I used that time to get his gift together. By the time I finished he was outside. I walked up to my front door expecting him to still be in his car, but he wasn’t. I could see him through the glass, a few feet away from the door. So, before I opened the door, I set down his present behind the wall. I opened the door. We immediately locked eyes. He smiled. I smiled. And that’s all I needed in that moment. I missed him so much. I got closer to him. We hugged and said hello. It was so nice to have him wrapped in my arms again. After we hugged I took a good look at him. He looked as beautiful as ever, with his dorky yet cocky smile, nice clothes, clean shaved face, and of course his eyes always take the cake. I could still see his green eyes sparkle from the dim light hanging from the entryway’s ceiling. He was wearing a nice black sweater with his skinny jeans and the usual boots he always wears. (I should’ve bought him new ones). He was also wearing a snapback cap I bought him. It was a black leather one with a logo of “The Flash.” Technically, since the logo was black it was actually the logo of the villain Zoom. Coincidentally, I was wearing a T-shirt of the Reverse Flash. I thought it was cute that we were kind of matching. Seeing him wear clothes or accessories I bought him makes me really happy. It makes me wonder if he thinks of me when he puts them on. I’m sure he does (I hope). I was so mesmerized by his beauty that I almost forgot why he came over. I immediately turned around to grab his gift that was still inside the house. As I reached for it, I said to him, “Okay I know I always get you stuff from here, but it’s only because I know you won’t go there yourself.” I handed him the Sephora bag and continued, “And I know how much you care about taking care of your face.” “Oh my god,” he said and then laughed. He ruffled through the bag and the tissue paper covering his gifts. He reached the bottom and grabbed the first item. He looked at it, paused for a moment, laughed, smiled and then looked at me. “I’ve actually been wanting to buy a new wallet. I really needed one.” “Good,” I said, “because I didn’t know what to get you, and I kept telling myself I wanted to buy you something you would actually use. And look! It even matches your cap. A Zoom wallet to go with your Zoom cap.” He laughed and said thank you. He reached in one more time and took out a shirt that I may have possibly re-gifted. My parents got me a nice shirt from Topman for Christmas which was a size too big. The shirt didn’t fit me - what was I going to do with it? Not wear it obviously, so I decided to give it to him. Okay, I’m guilty of re-gifting. Sue me. All that mattered was that he liked the shirt, and he did! He just kept on smiling. That made me happy. He gave me another hug and thanked me once more. He looked at me and started telling me that he felt bad that he didn’t have a present for me. Apparently, he had seen something at the mall that he wanted to get me, more specifically, a Halsey hoody that he saw at Hot Topic. He said that he didn’t get it because he thought I had already seen it at the store and probably thought I wouldn’t like it. Truth be told, I could love anything he’d give me. He could give me trash and I’d still cherish it just as much - because it was from him. I said to him that he should’ve gotten it anyway because I had no idea what he was talking about. I never saw the hoody in that store, and I’m there all the time. We talked a little bit more. It was getting colder and colder on this winter night. So, I asked him if we could continue talking somewhere else. “Hey, do you mind if we talk in your car or something? It’s getting pretty cold, and I need to talk to you about a lot of things. I promise I’ll try to hurry. I don’t want to keep you here for long. I know you have to work early in the morning.” “Yeah, sure. That’s fine,” he said. During the short walk from my front door to his car, he noticed that I got new glasses and complimented me. He said they looked really good. He also noticed I did something different with my hair too. He liked that too. He rarely expresses any feelings like that, so I appreciate them as much as I can whenever they decide to show up. When we got into the car, we didn’t speak for a moment or two. I just looked at him a lot, smiled at him a lot and thought about him a lot. I was so happy that he was finally there for me to make me feel better. I had so much going on in my life, I didn’t know where to start. After I gathered my thoughts together, I started telling him what was going on with me. I told him all the drama with my ex boyfriend and his new “fling.” I told him how this “fling” was also my best friend from another country. I told him how much he hurt me and all the wrong things he was doing. I told him the bad things I did while he was here visiting. I told him how much I messed up and I was worried he wouldn’t forgive me. I told him that even though I had all these people in my life that I still felt lonely. Although, I wouldn’t consider it an actual conversation, because I was crying the whole time I was telling him all this; I couldn’t help but shed tears. I was also talking so much that I never really let him get a word in. He was just nodding and looking into my eyes to show he was listening. He’s always been a great listener. Even after I was done telling him everything that had been going on with me for the past month, I couldn’t stop crying. I felt so embarrassed. I had never cried in front of him before. I thought I’d be stronger in front of him, but there was too much bottled up; I had to let it out somehow. I kept turning away - looking outside the window of his car towards the sky where I could see the stars. Then when I’d finally calm myself down for the moment, I’d turn to him and look into his eyes and tell him more. He looked sad. He looked like he felt bad for me. I could see it in his eyes. He looked guilty. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he just reached for my hand and grabbed it. That made me cry again. “I’m sorry you’re going through all this right now, that’s horrible,” he said. “I know, but I’ll be okay soon,” I lied as I rested my free hand over his. I let go of his hand. I turned around again, to calm down and gather my thoughts and prepare for what came next. When I was ready, I asked, “What do you want from me?” His response was not what I expected.

“Well, we had a lot of fun, and that’s all I wanted at first. And that’s what happened. I liked you. I really did. A lot. Then things changed. I wanted to hang out with you every day and be with you every day. And we did that. I wanted to be closer to you. And we did that too. And then stuff happened, and I got scared. I don’t know. I was scared to be happy. I didn’t want to be in a relationship. And I wasn’t prepared at all for how I felt about you. I didn’t know how to take it to the next level. I didn’t know how to be your boyfriend.” I choked on my own tears. I refrained from crying again. I was in shock. He had never opened up to me about his feelings for me like that before. Although it wasn’t the response I was looking for, it was a hell of a good answer anyway. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that because that’s not what I meant, but a good answer nonetheless. Thank you for that. I needed to hear that,” I said. “Well what did you mean then?” he replied. “I just wanted to know if you still want to be friends with me or not.” He got quiet. I could tell he didn’t know how to answer. “I meant to tell you all this before I talked to you about all my problems, but I forgot. And please, I just want you to be completely honest with me, even if it hurts me. Just pretend I didn’t tell you about anything that has been happening with me lately,” I said. To which he replied, “I know that’s what you need right now - for me to be honest.” He paused for a moment then continued, “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I never know what the right choice is. I never know what the right thing to do is. I always hurt you. I don’t want to keep hurting you.” “Listen to me when I say, and I promise that you haven’t hurt me as bad as someone else. It’s not like you and I had sex one day and then you decide to have sex with your ex girlfriend the next day. That would really hurt me and make me feel used and worthless. You haven’t done that to me. The only thing that upsets me is when you ignore me. I can’t handle it. It reminds me of the time when you ran away and ignored me for months. Don’t ignore me and I’ll be okay.” “Okay. I’ll try to do better. And I’ll try to text you more often,” he said. I was happy with the way he was handling things. He made me feel better. He was helping me heal. He stayed positive and told me things I needed to hear. He was being so strong for me. Unfortunately, this strength faded quickly with the next thing I told him. “Since I’ve been so sad lately, I’ve been doing really stupid things lately.” I didn’t mean to say it, it just came out. I didn’t actually want him to know what I was doing. His mood completely changed. I could tell that comment made him uncomfortable. His face showed he was upset. His eyes showed he was worried; they got glossy. “What have you been doing?” he said. “Nothing, nothing. Just forget that I said anything. I shouldn’t have said that.” “Please, tell me.” “No, I’m scared to tell you.” Then he said my name. That’s when I gave in. He sounded so scared and worried. So, I told him. “I’ve been cutting myself again.” He was speechless for a moment. He looked like he wanted to cry. “I thought that’s what you were doing when you texted me that you wanted to do bad things one day.” “I haven’t done it since high school.” “Me too,” he said. I couldn’t look at him with the next thing I had to tell him. I was too ashamed. I looked down at my hands instead, which were sweating and trembling. “It felt good to do it again. I missed it. I really did. It helped me when I was sad. It helped me when I tried to sleep at night. It helped me when my mind couldn’t stop racing - how could I think when the pain was all I could think about? I want to stop, but I can’t. I like it too much.” I looked back up at him. He was just staring at me with watery eyes, speechless. Seconds later, he threw himself at me and wrapped his arms around my body. He started crying over my shoulder. I had never seen him cry before, and I wasn’t expecting him to react this way. I felt really bad. “No, please don’t cry. I didn’t know it was going to hurt you this much. I’m sorry. Please, don’t cry,” I said. Then I started to cry. We were crying over each other’s shoulder. And I couldn’t tell if it was romantic or tragic. Romantic because it was so intimate, but tragic because of the reason why we were crying. Crying at the same time with the person you love, to me, had a sense of comfort in it. It was heartwarming. Sobbing, he said, “Please don’t ever do it again.” “I won’t, I promise. I don’t want to hurt you again.” I said. “I trust you,” he said as tears fell down his face - sobbing, sobbing. We still had our arms wrapped in each other’s body - crying, crying. Through tears, he continued, “I feel so guilty! I’m so sorry that I haven’t been here for you.” “It’s not your fault. I reached out to so many people. I reached out to all my friends. They were still there for me when I needed them, but I still did it anyway. I mean, maybe if you were I wouldn’t have done it, but who knows.” “I still feel bad.” I knew he meant that. I knew he felt guilty. I knew he cared about me. I just didn’t know he cared about me this much to cry for me. I had told my two best friends the day before. They were upset with me. They got mad, and of course told me to stop doing it. But I needed emotion. I needed comfort. I needed support. He gave me that. He helped me. We continued to hold each other. We continued to cry with each other. We continued to comfort each other. We continued to love each other. Even if that love was just as friends, that was enough for me. I could tell he didn’t want to let me go. I want to say I was looking over his shoulder for a good two minutes. That may not seem like a long time, but when you’re having moments like this - with the person you love - time is on your side and decides to slow down for you. We started to calm down. When we both stopped crying we finally let go of one another. He and I looked at each other’s eyes. He looked so sad. I felt horrible for putting him through that. I honestly never would’ve thought he would react that way. His face showed it all. His eyes were glossy, red and puffy from all the crying. His nose was red and swollen. And I could never forget the frown on his face. He looked so sad. Seeing him at his worst didn’t change my feelings for him. Even though he looked so sad and miserable, he still looked attractive and beautiful to me. I just wish I was looking at him smile instead. I didn’t even want to think about how bad I looked. Still looking straight at me he said, “I really don’t want you doing that anymore. After my aunt past away last month, it made me think that we just need to enjoy life while we still can.” I understood where he was coming from, and why he was so worried. I feel the same way about people who smoke, and how they take things for granted. Life shouldn’t be messed around with because it’s a beautiful thing to be alive, no matter how shitty it can get. There’s an endless amount of possibilities to have given you this life. So many bad choices by your parents and your parents’ parents and their parents before them. Then there’s the good ones they made too. All these choices put together created you. YOU! Why waste your chance at life with smoking, drugs, cutting, burning, or sticking your finger down your throat. Don’t do those things. Heal. And live life to the fullest. If only I could take my own advice. “I know, I know. I won’t do it anymore, I promise. I just want to let you know that I am not suicidal. Although, I do want to die, but I could never take my own life. I just like the feeling of hurting myself.” “Okay, well I’m glad.” The rest of the night consisted of more hand holding, long hugs, deep conversations, and laughing. (Yes, laughing!) He and I started talking about the money he owed me. I had given him $200 a couple of months back to pay for his part of rent that he needed to give his cousin for their apartment. I told him that he confuses me a lot, because he’s always telling me first and bringing up the fact that he owes me this money, yet he will stop talking to me for weeks. So does he want to be my friend or not? Does he want to pay me back or not? I told him these things, then he said, “I’m going to pay you back. I’m making way more than enough to pay you back.” “Okay, so show me!” I waved my fingers against my palm in a give-me-back-my-money hand gesture. “What are you waiting for? Pay up!” We both started laughing. I finally got to see him smile. Oh god, how I missed it so much. “Okay, just because I make a lot of money doesn’t mean I have it right now!” he said in sarcastic tone. “I haven’t gotten paid yet!” “So then don’t brag about how much money you have, Mr. Rich Guy.” We kept laughing together. I was laughing so much my stomach started to hurt. After the short time of happiness he started talking about his middle school times, because what I told him made him think about the past. He thinks it’s weird how things in the past still come up ten years later to haunt us. He told me how people judged him then and how many friends he lost. Then he said some things about his parents. I wanted to ask him about them and the rest of his family, but the night started getting older. I had something planned out for him that I wanted to do before the night ended. I hadn’t realized that we were in his car for over an hour. I grabbed his hand - my left hand under his palmar and my right hand over his dorsal. I looked straight into his eyes and said, “I’m going to tell you something, and I know it’s going to sound silly because, I mean, how could it be true?” “Okay,” was all that came out of his mouth. He looked worried and maybe a little scared. I made sure he was still looking into my eyes and continued, “I know I’ve told you this before, but it was over text. And I know that you know this already, but you need to hear it from me. You need to hear me say it with my voice.” I paused, looked down and refrained from crying again. I looked back up at him. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” I started to cry again (dammit). “I want you to know that I’m so in love with you. And I know you don’t feel the same way back. That’s okay. I just want you to know that I don’t care if you’re in love with somebody else. I don’t care if someone else is in love with you. I don’t care if you move away. I don’t care if I move away. I don’t care if we haven’t talked in months, or maybe even years. I will always, always… love you. I always have. And I always will. No matter what happens between us, you needed to hear it from me that someone else out there loves you.” He didn’t say a word. He just nodded. Instead, he just used his free hand to grab my hand that was still exposed over his. Then he let go and reached over to hug me. He held me so tight. I held him tighter. I wanted to enjoy the moment while I could. I thought it was too romantic. I spilled all my thoughts on him. I told him I loved him. And for once he was finally there for me when I needed him. He didn’t really respond to what I said to him. He didn’t need to, that gesture was enough for me. When we let go of each other I randomly thought about taking a selfie with him. I had never taken a photo with him before, so I thought that if I did this it would make me happy. I could always go back to this moment whenever I get sad. So I took out my phone and told him I wanted to take a selfie with him. I was so sad to hear him say that he didn’t want to take one. He said that he hadn’t taken a selfie in months and he felt gross because he hadn’t showered. He was basically complaining that he didn’t look good enough for a photo with me, but I thought he looked perfect… “I can’t just smile in any photo and look so good in it. Unlike you, all you have to do is smile and you look good in any photo you take.” I was very flattered by that comment, but it didn’t make up for the fact that he ended up not taking a photo with me. I should’ve made him take that photo on this night. I completely regret not doing that. Because now, it’s been fifty days since this night happened. And this was the last time I saw him. He did so well for the next few weeks after this night happened. He even texted me when you got home and told me goodnight. The next morning he told me good morning. The day after that he wished me well. This didn’t last long. Now, I’ve been texting him for the past three weeks and I’ve barely gotten one reply from him since we last talked. I haven’t seen him in almost two months, and I really miss his face right now. I really miss his smile. I really miss his voice. And I definitely miss his laugh. During these fifty days of not seeing him, I broke my promise to him. I gave in. I gave into the pain. I gave into the darkness. I let it consume me. I thought my promise to him would’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. All I could think about was the fact that I knew I wasn’t going to see him while I was still bleeding fresh blood. I knew I wouldn’t see him soon. I just thought, I can still do it because by the time I saw him again, my wounds would be healed. He would have no proof if I lied to him if he asked if I stopped doing it. So, I continued doing it. And I’m very sorry for him that I broke that promise. I hope he can forgive me one day. Had I known then what I know now - that I wasn’t going to see him again - I should’ve just taken that selfie with him when I had the chance. I should’ve treated that night like it was the last night of our lives. You may think, “It’s just a photo,” but it’s not “just a photo” to me. Seeing his face, his smile, his beautiful green eyes makes me so fucking happy. And I’m sure seeing him next to me in that photo, and seeing how happy I was to be by his side would’ve helped me through the tough times to come. A lot has happened in these fifty days of not seeing him. I can honestly say that this is my worst point in my life so far. I want to give up. I want to drop out of school. I want to inflict pain on myself. I want to forget about love. I want to forget about life. I want to give up on happiness. Maybe the photo would’ve kept me strong. Maybe it would’ve helped me through my tired yet restless nights. …It would’ve helped me when I got the urge to cut myself again. …It would’ve made life easier for me. …It would’ve kept me happy. Or maybe it wouldn’t have done any of this for me, but now I guess I’ll never know, because we don’t talk anymore… Love Always, Alex

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