Letters To Gavin.

Chapter 2

(Michael's p.o.v)

"Dear Gavin,

I miss you and I don't know why"

No.

"Dear Gavin,

Get your ass back home, dammit."

Fuck.

"Dear Gavin,

Why won't you leave my mind?"

God dammit.

I shouldn't even be writing him a damn letter, I shouldn't be missing someone I despise. I shouldn't miss Gavin as much as I do, and he shouldn't be running through my mind as much as he does. 

I don't get it. I honestly don't get it. 

I crumpled up what seemed to be the thousandth draft, giving up and calling it a day. 

Letters are for pussies, which is something I'm not. 

I glanced at the time on my computer. It was ten after five. 

I sighed, getting up from my desk and grabbing my backpack. I turned off my computer and the lights in the office. Everyone had left earlier, so I was the only one left. 

As I passed Gavin's desk, I wondered how he was doing in England. It was probably late there. I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him?

I locked up, turning off all the main lights before walking out and checking to make sure the main doors were completely locked as I made my way to my car.

When I finally got home from spending a fucking long ass time in traffic, I had an idea of what to write. I also wouldn't feel uncomfortable in the privacy of my home than at work where someone could walk in and ask why the hell I was writing a letter to Gavin of all people. 

I opened up a beer, and decided to get this fucking letter done.

Dear Gavin,

How's England? Bet you weren't expecting a letter from me, huh? Yeah, me too. Anyways, I don't want to make this all sappy and shit, but I miss you a whole lot more than I honestly thought I would. Yes, I know I can call you or tweet or whatever but that just isn't enough. Ray also thought it would be a good idea to write to you, god knows why. Everyone at the office says it's different without you. Geoff says Millie misses you, and that when you get back she expects a big hug from Uncle Gavin. We're used to you going to England, but never for this long. It's pretty much half a year, and that's fucking crazy. But yeah, I miss you. Everyone else does too, even though you haven't been gone a week. 

P.S. I better get a letter back you bitch.

Love, your boi Michael

I looked up from my paper, feeling pretty fucking accomplished. 

The thought of how he would react towards my letter made me feel anxious and scared yet overjoyed and excited. I didn't like that Gavin made me feel this way, but it made me feel happy all the same. 

I folded it, slipped it into an envelope, put a stamp and his address on it, and drove to the post office, dropping it off in the blue mailbox. I drove away, feeling anxious about my letter.

I got home, downing another two beers, that same anxious feeling never leaving. I decided I wasn't going to drown my feelings, I'd man the fuck up. Plus, having a hangover tomorrow morning would only make me feel worse. Oh well.

I guess there's nothing to do but wait.