Brendon
I shove my hands into my jacket. What are these? In my confusion did I pick up some documents of some sort.
I pull out the neatly folded squares. Shit!! It has to be what I think it is. One for each year without Ryan. Why didn't I give him them when I had the chance.
I hand Ryan them and then I go and I go and get my coffee.
I come back and see Ryan with tears in his eyes.
I ask, "What's wrong, Ry?"
He says, "You wrote these. Why did you?"
"I didn't know what else to do. Honestly there's a room in my house no one touches but me. No one else goes in. It looks almost like you never left."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I wouldn't have known what to do with all the memories and the paintings on the wall. The photographs of you and I."
"You have all of those."
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I? Ryan, you meant the world to me, you still do."
"You didn't tweet me or try to get a hold of me until she left."
I click my tongue. "I tried. You changed your number, and stopped talking to Jon and Spencer. So I assumed you didn't want to talk to me. I was afraid to send my letter, would you read it or trash, would you even receive it. I didn't want to send it and you not."
"Bren, I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I guess in my own way I was afraid too."
