These Coming Years

Chapter Four: Samantha's Story/New Letters

There was no guarantee that my letter would ever reach him. I couldn't send it to the address he had six years ago; who knows how often he moved. However, I knew the label he'd been signed to. I didn't know if he was still there, but I hoped if he wasn't, that someone would forward it to him.

Rudy rode with me to the post office. It had taken me two weeks to write a new letter, and Rudy didn't hassle me with questions about it. He seemed to understand that it wasn't easy for me to write a letter that would probably never be read. I guess what took the most time was my heart and my mind fighting each other.

He won't remember you.

Of course he'll remember you. He told you he loved you.

He won't feel that way anymore.

It's worth a try.

It's not worth the pain.

"What did you say?" Rudy interrupted the silent car ride.

"I told him that I just read his letter," I spoke hesitantly. "I said I know it's been years, but I still care." We reached the outgoing mailboxes, and I clutched the envelope in my hands. My thumb rubbed over the address of Decaydance Records, and then over Brendon's name.

"What are you thinking?" Rudy asked me in a hushed tone.

"What if he just laughs?" I murmured. I wondered if it would even be a good idea to send it.

"You won't know if he does," Rudy pointed out. He had a point. If the plan worked out, I would hear back from Brendon. Either we would continue talking, or he would give me the closure I needed. If the plan didn't work, I'd never know if he received the letter or not. I could try and start some new life without him, instead of just being at a dead halt like the past years have been.

I took a deep breath, and slipped the envelope into the mailbox. My heart began pounding. There was no going back at that point. All there was left to do was wait.

Rudy and Marisol were very generous about letting me stay with them. I couldn't thank them enough. It soon started feeling like the old days where the three of us would hang out all the time, except Marisol wasn't totally afraid to look at Rudy anymore. It was seriously different seeing them together in the way they were.

In high school, when they started dating, they were very coy about how to touch each other. They would share an awkward glance when their hands accidentally touched, and they'd hesitate a lot. But as we sat there in their big beautiful house, I watched as Rudy would instinctively rest his hand on Marisol's knee or her belly, or Marisol would absently lean back against him. I was happy for them, but I couldn't stay in denial about my jealousy. I could've had that.

My bitterness wore off instantly as they were pretty aware of me the whole time, and they never made me a third wheel. Something for which I was grateful. Over time, we shared more stories about our lives, and I eventually told them about Samantha.

"Just..don't judge me, alright?"

"We're not going to judge you," Marisol laughed. "You think we'd wait this long to start passing judgement?"

"Very funny," I sipped my drink. She just made a face as she took a bite of her salad.

"I'm just saying, brace yourselves," I sighed. Rudy gestured for me to continue. "So, back in 2008, right after I turned twenty-one. I was in Colorado, working at this grocery store. There was one girl that I interacted with every day. Samantha. She was super nice, but she was also down to earth and wasn't patronizing like a lot of other people were. She would ask all the time if we could hang outside of work. I always made up some excuse to get out of it. I liked her, but I was embarrassed to say I was living in a hotel room for the previous three months."