Do Not Fucking Touch Me // Reddie

Forty Five

(Eddie's POV)

Three letters came at once. I saw them lying on the kitchen table. At first I thought they were bills, but as I grew closer, the envelopes were clearly addressed to me. I looked in the corner to see who they were from, and to my delight, I saw Richie's name. I ripped the first one open and pulled out the letter. I unfolded the page and saw my boyfriend's scribbled handwriting. 

Dear Eds, 

The first line read. I smiled and closed my eyes. Images of him bounced around in my mind. I couldn't wait three months. I had to keep reminding myself this was for him, for the greater good. He would be away from me for three months.  A lot could happen in three months. But for him, it was a matter of survival. 

Seeing how he looked at me after I tried to kill myself changed me. It really did. I promised not only him, but also myself that I would never repeat my poor actions. He felt bad seeing me like that. My empathetic senses overtook me. Being the one who almost died did not affect me as much as seeing me like that affected him. He was in my position now. Richie was the one dying. I was so close to death before, I tasted it on my lips before being saved. I didn't want that for Richie, too. I wanted him to be able to live to be old.

I read the letters and sighed. I missed him. It had been a week. The first three letters came in, one for each of the three days he had been gone, which means there were two more to come. He must have sent them all at once, or something. It was so weird being without him. We had been together for nine months. I knew that he wanted to count the time he was gone, but it felt strange to do so to me. I was all alone here. His letters would be my only company for three whole months. 

I reached in my backpack and pulled out a notebook. I ripped a piece of lined paper off the hinges and pulled out a pen. I was going to write him back.

Dear Richie,

Hi, love. Your letters have reached me successfully, in case you were wondering. I have them in front of me, all three, and I will read them over and over every time I begin to miss you. So far that's a lot. I think about you every single day, and I find comfort in the fact that you probably do the same. Missing you is torture, but if it will get you better, it's what I want. 

I am going to be okay. You don't need to worry. My uncle signed me up for a counsellor. I'm going to go to therapy for my depression, maybe begin medication for it. You know how I feel about pills now, so that won't go over easy but I will try. For you, and for me, I will be better by the time you return.

I'll keep it short and sweet. I miss and love you, I will be okay, and I hope you are too. 

Love, yours,

Eddie Kapsbrack