This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

I slept in your hoodie again last night, the red one with the holes in the sleeves. I know it was your favorite. It's my favorite too. It's so worn out that I'm afraid one day, instead of ripping, it will just turn to a pile of dust. I hope that day never comes because I can't seem to sleep without it anymore. It makes me feel close to you. I still can't believe that your mom wasn't going to let me keep it. She never did like me for some reason. I haven't washed this old thing since the last time you wore it. It still smells like you; like your shampoo; like your deodorant; like the cologne that you got last Christmas. When I close my eyes and take a deep breath you are here with me. I want you to hold me. I miss you so much, David. I miss you so much that it hurts. There is a hole inside of me, a burning emptiness that nothing has been able to fill, and no one seems to understand. 

I talked to my mother again last night and she told me that I need to stop thinking about you. It wasn't the first time that we've had that conversation and I know that it won't be the last. She said it's not healthy. My therapist agrees with her. They act like it's something that I can just turn off like a light, but they don't understand what it's like, David. They simply can't understand what it's like. This is foreign to them. It has only been six months since the last time I saw you. That was the worst day of my life. I was so angry, David. I was so very angry. We are supposed to be together. It just wasn't fair.

Our movie was on again the other night. It always makes me think of you, makes me think of us. I find it so romantic when Mary leans over the counter and says: "George Bailey, I'll love you until the day I die". That's how I feel about you. I think about that scene a lot. I must have watched it over a hundred times by now. It always makes me cry. Who declares life long love like that at the age of nine? You will always be my George Bailey. 

Do you remember the day we met? When I saw you from across the room at the coffee house it was love at first sight. I had never seen a smile like yours before, a smile that made me feel like it was for me and me alone. You ordered a dirty chai, you always order a dirty chai. I don't like them much myself, but I drink them when I miss you the most. Sometimes I wish I hadn't stopped for coffee that day. I wish that I would have walked right past you without even looking up. No I don't, not really. But i think that maybe a part of me wonders if it would have been easier that way. I know that's only the pain talking though. I just don't want to let you go, David. I can't let you go.

My therapist seems to think that if she can just pick the right pill or dial in on the correct dosage that all that sadness, all that loneliness will just go away. Like love is somehow a defect, a disease that you must cure. I stopped taking them. They don't make me feel right. I would rather feel pain than nothing at all. I am so sick and tired, David. I am so sick and tired of people calling me crazy for loving you as much as I do. Do people not feel love anymore? Do they not feel compassion? Am I truly alone? You have always been and always will be the only man for me and that will never change. It will never change. Sometimes, David, sometimes it hurts so much that I begin to think about ways to be with you. I know that it scares my mother when I talk like that, but I just can't help it. I will love you until the day I die. If only life were like the movies. 

I know I'm just rambling now, but I don't have anyone to talk to about this, not about you, not anymore. I'm beginning to think that even my therapist has stopped listening to me. Maybe I should find a new one. One who doesn't make me feel like I'm working backwards just by saying your name. How can people be so cruel? You're the only person who I ever really truly felt cared about me. You're kind of perfect like that. I only hope that I made you feel the same, that I made you feel loved. Everything that I did was for you. 

It has taken some time, but I have finally forgiven you for what happened. It wasn't your fault. I know that now. I guess maybe I should have known it then. I wasn't thinking very clearly though. It just hurt so much, David. It hurt so much that I hated you for it. I know you didn't mean it when you filed that restraining order. It was just one of our misunderstandings. We seem to have a lot of those. But relationships can be full of misunderstandings, David. And we will move past this, we will. I know we will. Because we love each other and love, David, true love, is a beautiful and crazy thing. And it can make people do beautiful and crazy things. Just three hundred and twelve more days until we can finally be together again. I've been keeping track of each day away from you with notches on my arm. Isn't that romantic? It's the only thing that makes me really feel sane anymore. Just three hundred and twelve more days, my love. Three hundred and twelve. See you then.

Forever yours, Becky

May 13, 2022 03:46

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