𝓛𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝓨𝐎𝐔 𝓓𝐎 | 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣

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» [ like you do — joji ] «
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𝒟earest 𝒜,

I like to say I am a man of my word.

I was a man of my word when I said, "I love you," on the day that marked our seven months of being together. I was a man of my word when I told you I would get you those special chocolate covered strawberries on your nineteenth birthday. I was a man of my word when I told you I would pick you up the morning of November 19th, two days after your midterms. I have never failed to be honest. I have never failed to be straight with you.

However, I would be a liar—properly labeled a dishonest man—if I said that I think you're really gone.

It's absurd— all of the alibis and made-up stories for why you went missing. The whole town talks about you— your motives, your sudden disappearance, your reasoning for being gone. No makeshift rumors are the same, no one truly knows what happened to you, Arielle. Although, all of them have one common trend between them, and that reiteration is that I am to blame.

But, my love, you know I am a man of my word. I woke up on the 19th, hauling my ass out of bed at 5am knowing that I had a 2 hour drive to see you. I drove through the interstate that you always hated, mostly because driving on that freeway together either indicated a bright hello or a melancholy goodbye for us as "long distance" partners. But on the 19th, we both knew that it was a bright hello type of morning.

It was nothing but routine. Driving down to you in Jacksonville was almost second nature at this point, especially since I have almost driven the same route for 3 consecutive years by now. As predicted, I stayed amongst my word, arriving at your place by 7am to greet you with nothing but love on our third anniversary.

However, you simply weren't there. Your car was absent in its driveway. Your bed was unkept and unmade for once, despite the fact I know that you make your bed every morning as a type of ritual. Your coffee machine was turned off with an empty pot, when I am fully aware that you can't go one morning without that surge of caffeine. Your absence was odd, but I shook it off, assuming you went out to get us breakfast or something— being the considerate girlfriend you always were.

So... I waited. Then, one voicemail of concern turned to two. Then, two voicemails of worry slowly transitioned to ten. Then, one hour of waiting turned to two. Then, two hours of waiting impatiently slowly transitioned to ten. I waited in your empty apartment for hours, hopeless in a sense where I wondered where you were and just wanted you to come home, solely so I could finally hold you in my arms.

But, you never came home. And, I didn't know why until I called your mother.

Around hour 3, I called your mother out of desperation. She told me that you left, that you left late on the 18th of November to surprise me. She said that you left the house around 7pm that night, calling her to tell her that you were bracing yourself for the road trip to Orlando, the long two hour drive ahead of you.

Now, I don't know why you would do such a thing. As to why you would drive so late in the night when you hate driving in the dark. As to why you would go on a road trip alone when you despise long drives in solitude. As to why you would go all this way, from Jacksonville to Orlando, to see me when I would have visited you in less than 12 hours from then.

But, you were always spontaneous, always keeping me on my toes. With the way you were always unpredictable, your spontaneity urged you to visit me on the night of the 18th, hoping to squeeze in a few more hours of us together prior to our original plans I assume. I don't blame you— you and your spontaneity, I mean. It's why I fell in love with you in the first place, honestly. The way you constantly strive for change— whether it's altering your coffee order at that local cafè down the street from your apartment, or changing your spirit animal every once in awhile because you're indecisive, or desiring to paint your bedroom a different color every season because of your mood, or changing your phone background once a month to see a different visual everyday.

You were always unpredictable.

So, when your mother said that you went on a late night drive to surprise me on the 18th, I wasn't necessarily surprised.

But, when your mom told me that you never rang her back after that one phone call, when your mother told me that she didn't have a trace of you after 10pm, when you mom told me that she had no update from you since your last interaction with her— I worried.

You see, as unpredictable as you are, my love, I know you very well. I know why you prefer dark chocolate over milk. I know why you refuse to move in with me until you finish university. I know why you are grouchy every morning until you get your first cup of coffee. I know you very well.

So, when your mom told me that you were missing, I knew it couldn't be true.

Arielle, it has been 10 days. Ten days since your absence. The police may think I'm the motive, that I am the reason why you disappeared. Your mom refuses to look at me in the eye, assuming I am the one that caused your vanishing. Your neighbors always stare at me when I visit your apartment every morning to look for you, guessing that I am the one that stole you away from the Jacksonville city.

Please, Arielle. You know that I am a man of my word. Therefore, when I say that I didn't do it—that I have no idea as to how or why you went missing—why won't anyone believe me?

It's getting harder and harder to accept that I am to blame. In which I am the reason for why you drove late at night when you absolutely hate evening drives. In which I was the cause for the sudden disappearance of you when you didn't come back in the morning of the 19th. In which I was the motive for you to go missing, for you to abandon me, your family, and everything behind.

Am I to blame?

Was I the one that caused this?

I miss you, Arielle. I cannot do this without you, let alone live without you.

I know that I am a man of my word, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss you. You know that I am a man of my word, so I would be lying if I said that you aren't out there feeling lost and frustrated with a dire need to come home.

I am a man of my word, so please come back to your man soon.

Love you always,
Clay

°•*⁀➷ A & her rambling ｡ ༅ ˖⁺ ꒰ 🪴 ꒱ ⋆ ୭

ooOOO YEAH LETTER ONE, bAYBEE!

i'm sorry if this seems like an odd chap, it's honestly a filler to give a background on arielle going missing & how clay grieves about it — we will have auristella++clay content soon !!

but i've also never ever written like... a sad expression through first person/a letter before?? how did i do? lewl

otherwise! how do we feel abt this chapter? how has everyone's week been? remember that ily:')