mixtape (reddie)

November 18th, 1988

Tozier,

We went to the aquarium today! I was so excited about it, I had been counting down the days on my calendar to November 18th. Bangor is about an hour ride north of Derry, so I had to pack extra medication just in case. The buses left early in the morning, and our bus filled up so quickly that I was worried you wouldn't find your way onto it. I had to save you a spot, and Stan kept saying that you were probably sleeping in late. But then Ben spotted you, and he called you over, and you sat next to me.

I'm really sorry that I said what I said today. I don't think you're annoying, I really don't. Do you know that? You're not annoying- no matter how many vulgar jokes you make. Even... Even when you call me Eds, which I hate. I still think you're as interesting as when I first met you, before all the gross chucks. I apologized to you, but I don't think you accepted it. I think you listened to what I said and believed it, which scares me. Why would you believe something so obviously not true? Do you genuinely think you're annoying? You're not, Richie. You're really not. You're brave. I hurt you, and you still protected me when Henry Bowers approached us today. That takes the strength of a hero, maybe you could be mine.

The fish were beautiful, though.

God, they were so beautiful. They flow with water like silk, their fins opaque and transparent at the same time, gleaming with golden neons, touched by the nimble, delicate, and graceful hands of God. They move with elegance, pure beauty captured in their quick-paced movements. I couldn't believe how many there were, and how absolutely stunning each one was. Stan told me that aquariums and places like SeaWorld (?) are cruel to their fish, but the Bangor aquarium must be an exception. Their fish swim with poise and purpose, and I crave to be anywhere near their level of absolute sheer beauty.

But you don't have to try. You already are beautiful. I don't know when you'll read this, or if you ever will, but you came up to me and asked me to listen to a song on your tape. That's how I knew we were okay. That was Richie Tozier language for 'you're important to me.' Thank you for letting me listen, Richie. I know I fell asleep on you, but I had dreams circling around ballrooms and waltzing with you in tune to George Michael. You look good in black tie, but I doubt I'll ever see you wear something so dapper outside of my dreams. Do you ever get tired from running around my daydreams all day? Do you look both ways before you cross my mind?

I don't know what any of this means. I don't. I tried talking to Bill about it, but I couldn't exactly explain the depth of it all to him without dropping your name, so I just changed the subject and asked him about the new sled his parents bought him for the winter. I don't know, sometimes I wish I did try talking to him about it, just so that somebody can explain it to me. I don't get why I feel the heat of the sun inside my tummy when you touch me. I don't get it, dude. It's so... I don't know. I just want to be around you all the time, I never want to be anywhere else, and I feel angry when your eyes stray from me. Isn't that so stupid? I think I definitely won't ever show you this journal now, not after saying something as embarrassing as that.

You walked home with Bev to go retrieve your bike; our plan was to meet back up at the corner of Greendrive and go to Mike's. When I suggested that the two of us go out to Hanlon's farm on the bus, that's all I wanted it to be; just us. But then everyone else invited themselves, and I couldn't explain why I didn't think that was a good idea. I guess I'm just selfish, I don't know. I want to hang out with you alone, but so does Bev. She told me so, and I promised that I can't tell you, or else you would get upset with her and stop being friends with everyone just to prove a point. She explained this with a bitter tone, disdain in her voice, but I can't help but think that your stubbornness is endearing. I don't know. Maybe it's just because you're new to the group; you know, Bev has known you for years so maybe the endearing aspects of you have worn off for her. I hope they don't ever wear off for me, I hope I still think you're just as pretty twenty years from now. Maybe we'll have wives by then, maybe we'll be neighbors, and maybe we can recreate that family-man life that I described in my first entry. Would you want that? Would you want to meet in my garage and share Pabst Blue Ribbon-tainted kisses? Maybe you'll grow up to be a whiskey man. Who knows. What matters is that I'm there to see which you end up to be, you know?