Gone (Ianthony)

One Month, Two Weeks, Six Days, and Nineteen Hours Before

Anthony:

One of my biggest flaws: I tended to overthink things at an extraordinary level.

And that's exactly what I did the next three days: I overthought. I spent three days ignoring everyone's calls - which, prior to three days ago, I had done a pretty good job of not ignoring people - and pacing around the whole entire house, trying to remember every single detail of that stupid movie. I didn't think I'd seen it since June 29th, 2003, and I was asleep through half the movie. It wasn't on Netflix, and any video-renting/selling stores within a reasonable radius were closed for Fourth of July weekend.

All I remembered was the opening scene was ridiculously gory and depressing. Other than that, it was sort of a blur; some dudes in France during World War Two had to find some guy named Ryan for some reason. I think Tom Hanks was in it.

It took me three days to remmeber Ian's girlfriend had purchased the movie from the library when they were closing down and selling every movie in stock for like a dollar each.

In that one epiphany-hazed moment, I laughed. Because I was so goddamn stupid. Because here I was, thinking Ian could be all the way in France or living in some old WWII veteran cemetary, when really, a physical copy of the DVD was right down the hall.

I ran out to the living room and scanned along the movie shelf, nervousy flooding over me. What if it wasn't there? What if the clue wasn't that easy? What if he really was in France?

And then, on the last shelf, between 50 First Dates and The Hangover, there it was. Saving Private Ryan.

I pulled it out. Held it in my hands for a minute. On the cover was a really bad late-nineties photoshop of Tom Hanks and some other guy I didn't recognize in WWII uniforms.

There was nothing else on the front, through. Nothing Ian left.

As soon as I opened the case, though, my breath caught in my throat as a folded-up piece of paper fell onto the ground by my feet.

I swallowed hard.

I sat on the couch and took a deep breath before opening it. I was expecting something short; another locker combination or a little picture or something completely unrelated to the cause.

But as soon as my eyes fell on the first word, it was hard to breathe. Because he wrote it in his sloppy, slightly-legible handwriting. For me.

Anthony,

So, hi, I guess. I'm not really sure how to start this. Um. Yeah. I guess I'll just say it: good job for making it this far. That is, if you've even picked up on my series of clues so far. Or maybe it's like twenty years into the future and you're about to watch this with your wife and kids and you forgot I had ever even existed. I hope that's the case. I want you to forget about me. Well, I mean, of course I don't, because my selfish side wants you here with me where I can hold you forever and never let you go. But I want you to be happy. And here I am, getting way off topic. So, I guess, if you're not really looking for me and want to forget about me, stop reading. Get back to your family. Watch the stupid movie. But if you are... hi. I miss you a lot. I can't tell you where I am, exactly, but I'm probably alive. Probably. I don't know. It depends on how long it's been since I left. Sorry about that, by the way. I really did just have to get out, and I knew if I told you, you would have tried to stop me. And I sure as hell didn't want you to come with me. Then you'd be stuck with me for even longer. So I decided to let you decide if you wanted to find me. If you picked up on the capital letters and the note and the locker and the kid and the date and the movie and now you're here, congratulations on making it this far. God knows I wouldn't be able to. And thank you for caring. I don't know why you do since I find it impossible to care about myself, but thank you. You can stop here, if you want. Maybe you just wanted to hear from me. I don't know. Or keep going, if you want. Whatever makes you happy. Because your happiness is the most important thing to me. But yeah. Um. I guess if you've made it this far it means you've talked to your ex-girlfriend, and, yeah. I love you. A lot. And I still do. Which is why I really hope you care enough to find me. But I also kinda hope you don't because I know you don't love me and when and if you find me it'll just ruin everything. I don't know. I don't even know why I'm writing this, honestly. I just thought... I don't know, it's probably been a while since you've heard anything from me and I just wanted, no, needed to tell you all of this. I should just not be an asshole and tell you where I am right now, but I am an asshole, so your next clue - well, I'm not even gonna make some elaborate clue this time because you need to do this and I need you to do it straightforward: you need to find your dad and reconnect with him and when you do ask him about me and he'll tell you. I love you Anthony.

Ian