My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)

My Dearest, I Love You so (Canada)

1 October, 1945

     I haven't been doing much other than working on matters here and there back at home, but yesterday I flew over to the United States to visit Al upon his return from Japan. He took me out for dinner and told me everything that happened, how part of him wanted to go home while the other wanted to eradicate everything that stood in his way. Although one of his states had already recovered, he still wanted to take vengeance for the cruel action he thought was performed out of cold blood. 

     That whole day he'd been acting strange, almost like he was uncomfortable to be next to me. While we were walking, I asked him what was wrong. He told me that it was just the sirloin steak he had that's causing his stomach to act up, but I knew he was obviously thinking about something. I pulled him to the side and asked him again, and he finally answered precariously. 

     I wasn't taken back by what he said. It was already noticeable to be considered a surprise. The way Alfred's been acting around me all this time, the things he's said, and those nights we obviously had, weren't for nothing. He reminded me of a teenage boy spilling himself to a girl, but instead of being a girl, I'm a boy. Not that I have any problem with it, but it may be a problem for everyone else.

     I'm straying off topic.  All the things he said to me that night is definitely something I'm going to remember. And I'm not branching off from the many cliché novels I read about young love. I could tell this was his first time saying "I love you" to someone other than his bosses or other close relative since he stuttered almost the WHOLE time (which I found too adorable). 

     I've heard stories about people who were killed because they were accused of homosexuality, and although I can't justify these stories to be true, I would much rather keep this a secret until one day the time comes where it's safe to let loose. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to spook him. He is more of a kid than I am, and his tolerance for these misfortunes is horribly low. I've seen Al breakdown before, many times, and I'll tell you they're not pretty.     

     Yet, even as I look at everything that happened within the span of one hundred and seventy years, we and the world have made many drastic changes. Alfred experienced the reality that he can never get what he wants nor could everything go his way. Therefore he learnt that the only way to get what you desire is to either work or fight for it (under strictly specific circumstances) instead of taking the easy way out. I included "strict" because I had to make sure, after having a sitting, that he shouldn't jump in and just fight for what he wants. As for me, I've endured numerous changes. One that had impacted me greatly was when I awoke only to be greeted by darkness. During my recovery on times where I was alone to do what I please, I contemplated just how "special" I really was. At first I was convinced that I could never die, but after waking up from a coma in which I could feel my imminent death approaching gradually, I realised that I can die. The reason presenting itself when Canada stooped to its lowest in that whole period of tumult. I saw how important it was to keep my country in stability, because if it were to evanesce into nothing, I would too. I had to stop acting like I was some sort of infallible god and take my life for granted. This may sound ludicrous of me to say, but I believe that my existing on this planet depends wholly on the existence of my country. If I ask Alfred or Papa or even Mr. Braginsky about this, they'd most likely agree!

     Coming from my heart, I was genuinely scared to love Alfred in fear that doing this would eventually destroy us. He and I would end up to be star-crossed lovers. All those times we've dragged each other through hell, I thought we would have never worked out. Yet we did, and my goodness, I am definitely lucky to have entrusted my heart and happiness to him. I'm still trying to figure out what had made me doubt myself so to end up loving him of any people. Was it his charismatic charm? His energetic stoic spirit? His flirty and alluring side? Or was it the dying curiosity to see the real him beneath the skin and vibrant smiles? 

     Whatever it was, I sincerely thank it for giving me signs that pointed directly to him. The times where I had been at my absolutely lowest, he had always been the one to lift me off of my side and back on my feet. In return and by devotion I had always been the desperately needed enthusiasm and his savior to subdue the anxiety attacks and breakdowns he experienced. You could say that he was my hero and I was his. I don't know why he's so affixed to the word"hero" and why he loves to be called one, but if it makes him happy then I'll say it as many times as he wants me to (and it's almost everyday). 

     From this point I will no longer say, "I think" because now I am certain. I am certain of this, and it is that I want to spend the rest of my life with Alfred. Evaluate the number of years I have had making this decision, extensively more than enough, right? It's funny, at one point we were talking about how one day one of us is going to propose to the other, and he said that he wanted to be the one to do it. I asked him if this was only because he wanted to be the one to carry me bridal-style down the wedding isle. He replied that that was half the reason. Of course.

     You know, if you look back to when we met in that stuffy little acquaintance room we were to meet in monthly to where we are now lying in the same bed, you could definitely see how time and other worldly events had forced us to get along and put our past behind us, allowing the start of a new beginning. Personally I believe sixteen years to be a reasonable amount of years to figure out if I really did see him more as a friend, someone I'd grow to love. If I am wrong and sixteen years is too much, then that is fine with me as well.

     There has been a big quantity of events that had been recorded in this diary, but unfortunately I have run out of space. I would've had more available pages had I not torn out several entries due to my anger and disgust towards them. I do say, I will miss writing in you all of my personal conflicts and problems as well as what has been happening in the world. Though my character has hardened from what it originally was, the softness in my heart has not faltered. Thank you for always being there for me when Alfred and no one couldn't, and I'll surely miss bringing you around wherever I go; from the mountains, to the oceans, from Europe, and back to Canada. And finally, thank you for being my friend when at times I was absolutely alone.

     Dear diary, I love you so much, and thank you for everything you have done for me.  

     Your friend, Matthew