To my dear boy

Chapter 3

Now that the little bit of snow that had accumulated on the ground had finally melted, the town looked grey and gloomy. Puddles covered the pavement almost entirely, and despite the large amount of people who were walking down the boulevards, living their day to day lives and going to work as usual, everything looked dead and quite depressing. Andy's heart, however, was exactly the opposite.

Valentine's day was coming up. Only a few days left until every decent looking girl in school would be covered in flowers and chocolate, until you'd see ten times more couples than usual holding hands on the streets, as well as all the confessions and the drama they always started.

Despite how cliche it all was, Andy couldn't help but think about this, and how he'd be left out. All the guys in his class were old enough to finally ask out their crushes or have girlfriends. They got to have fun and celebrate Valentine's. Him, on the other hand, wouldn't, and for some reason, he couldn't shake the thought. Mostly because it was more than that. No matter how much he wanted it, his life would never be that of an ordinary teenage boy, he'd never be able to experience the 'teenage love' that everyone always talked about, he wouldn't be able to talk to his friends about his crushes, or even to his family. He would never bring a girl home and make his mom proud. And if he did, it would all be a lie.

With each passing day, Valentine's was getting closer and closer, and the sinking feeling in Andy's heart was starting to become overwhelming. By now he had stopped caring about the principle in itself. It still made him sad, thinking about how he was missing out, but he couldn't give a crap less about it anymore, it was merely an excuse for him to mope, to constantly feel like shit. But if he was being honest, the only thing he was sad about was Matt. The realization that the boy he would die for would never even look at him again if he found out about the sick and twisted thoughts going on in Andy's head made his heart shatter over and over again. All the things he was dreaming about would never happen. Matt would never see him like that, and no amount of hoping or praying would change that. The universe wouldn't have mercy, nobody would give him what he desperately longed for just because he felt as if he would die without it. There were no gods left to worship, no prayers left to say. The truth is that nobody cares about the pain you go through, and nopony is going to come and hand you a consolation prize for all the tears you've shed and all the blood that has poured from your wrists. Hundreds of people kill themselves every day, and the world keeps spinning, with nobody to mourn them, to care about their pain. And faith exists because we can't accept that, because if we admit to ourselves that our suffering is ultimately meaningless to the rest of the world, we have no reason left to go on. When that last bit of hope dies out, when that afterlife you used to believe was waiting for you becomes a simple fairytale, all you can do is pretend your cat or that one show you haven't watched yet is enough of a reason to go through all the pain.

Oh, but it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, IT WASN'T FAIR.

He'd never get to hold his hand. He'd never get to feel him wrap his arms around his waist from behind. He'd never feel him play with his hair. He'd never feel the taste of his lips. He'd never hear him say 'I love you'.

No, he couldn't let it happen. He couldn't let his life go by, wallowing in his own tears without doing anything about it. As soon as he woke up that seemingly normal morning, on the 14th, he went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find. He got red roses, just because red was Matt's favorite color. He also got a box of chocolates and rushed back home, hiding them under his bed. He stole a piece of paper and a pen from his sister and started writing like his life depended on it.

To my dear boy,

I'm done. I'm done hiding. I'm done pretending that I'm not dying inside every time you glance at me, that I don't instantly smile every time you pop up in my mind, that I'm not absolutely in love with you.

I've always done my best to bottle up all of my feelings and act like everything's normal. I've been trying to do that for you, for us. But no matter how hard I try, I simply can't. Because I don't just like you, it's not just a silly little crush. Every time I think about it, my mind wanders to those stories we used to hear when we were little, about the princess falling in love with Prince Charming and living happily ever after, and I'm starting to believe this is what everyone meant when they talked about 'true love'.

This must be it, right? After all, how can one possibly love someone more than this, when my love for you already devours every inch of my body and soul? When I've already given every ounce of my being to you? When I'd even sacrifice myself for you? How can it go beyond that? Because if it somehow does, I don't think I'd be able to take it. I'd drown in it and grasp for air, but never reach the surface again.

I wish I had the strength to keep this to myself. But, God, I'm tired. I've exhausted myself with all the sleepless nights, I've worn out my body from all the empty bottles of alcohol that haunt me every moment of every day and night. I've wrecked myself from all the self-hatred and the anger I've been keeping locked away. And I wish I had the strength in me to keep going the way I have for all these years, but the moment the idea of jotting this down popped up in my head, I was already long gone. Now that I've picked up the pen, there's no way back.

So this is it. These are probably the last words I'll ever get to say to you, because I know you'll never want to see me again. I'm not stupid, I'm aware of what I am. But I can't live like this. I have to take my chance, even if it's one in a million. So, Matt, would you be my valentine?

Andy