Letters to Edmund

LIX

Dear Edmund:

I am fucked up.

There is no other way of putting it. And you know I don't usually swear. But that is just the cold hard truth.

That is why every Friday at four pm sharp I go to a psychiatrist, for her to remind me, while we sit in comfy white sofas, that there is no cure.

And that day I was so emotionally exhausted that my mother decided to buy me a cup of my favorite drink afterwards, to cheer me up a bit.

So there I was, my mother driving and me curled in on myself, sipping my drink from a one liter cup.

Now, I know that you are a good looking boy, but there is nothing really eye-catching about your appearance from far away.

But still, I noticed you, you were the first thing I noticed, even though you weren't that close and the trees in the park half covered you.

So I dived, logically, that's what I do. I dived, I actually did. And my mom shot me a look like I had eaten the styrofoam one liter cup.

"Did you see Natalie?" She asked, ignoring the way I was basically folded in half on my seat.

I hadn't, even though her hair is bright red. I had seen you instead, with the common dark hair.

"He's there" I hissed "he's right there"

My mother knew who I was talking about, and squinted at the pack of maybe seven boys and apparently Natalie exercising at the park.

She acknowledged me with a nod when I merely whimpered, cursing my luck, I was too weak for this Edmund. And I felt like I was about to spit my heart out, if I stayed folded like that.

"Remember when I told you he had a girlfriend?" She nodded again "it's Natalie"

This time she looked at me, wide eyed and speechless, she knew Natalie, the perky six year old Natalie.

And I could see it, physically feel it, when she cursed my luck too.

___
Shout out to @AubreyRogers I see ya gurl, thanks for voting. Also, Robbie Kay.
(Ps. Michael is trying to read this over my shoulder but he can't read English lol)