ROADTRIP: boyxboy imagines

LETTERS FROM YOU~Jacklyn

You wrote me a letter, "To Jack." Not to your parents, not to your siblings. No, you wrote it to me; and I hate it. 

Is it because you care about me more? Or that you don't care about me at all and you wrote it because you knew what it would do to me.

I hate that I'm angry at you right now, that I'm sitting here In front of your family complaining about how you said goodbye to me, how you gave me an explanation, when you left them in the dark. 

The last thing I want to do is yell at you here, but what am I supposed to do.

I'm angry because of you I'm angry at you and we both know the letter was shit. You're a coward and I hate to say it, but you left, and all we have left is a stupid letter with a shit explanation. 

And why? Because you're "too broken to be saved" is that why you left us with nothing but some shitty half assed letter instead of setting your pride aside for one damn minute to talk to us?

Were we not worth your time? Were we an afterthought, just some people who crossed your mind at the last second who you were kind enough to leave something for?

How am I supposed to move on, you said you hoped I find someone who loves me. 

That's not what you should be worried about, the problem won't be to find someone who loves me, the problem is to find someone I love back.

I won't though, I know I wont because for the rest of my life I'm going to compare every single person who even attempts to speak to me to you. 

Which means I'm destined to be alone because no one will ever live up to the standards you set.

Because sure, they might look like you, they might have the same sense of humor, and be as loud and spontaneous and chaotic. But they're not you; they will never be you.

I love you. I can't love someone else; I can't love someone who isn't my Brook. 

You're the one that I want, the one I wanted to live day by day with; not worrying about anyone outside of us and just living our best lives.

Together.

How are we supposed to do that together when you're not here? You promised you wouldn't leave, you said we were different; and I believed you. 

See the stupid shit you believe when you're in love? I'm in love with you! At least I was; but now you're nothing but a memory, someone I must refer to in past tense. 

Who's to say you weren't just some fever dream that I'll one day bring up how we danced in the moonlight while I'm too drunk to be embarrassed because of how cliché that is, and someone will tell me it never happened and its time for me to put the alcohol down. 

I bet ill believe them, id probably let them convince me without much struggle that you weren't real because it hurts too much to remember what I had and just how fast I let it slip away.

Opening my eyes, I couldn't see in the dark room, but I could feel Jacks body on top of mine, his arms wrapped firmly around my neck where he has his face hidden. 

I tried moving but jack just gripped me tighter, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him until he was ready to talk to me. 

"I love you" I whispered into the dark over and over again. Eventually his grip loosened, and his body got heavier on top of mine, and I just thought about how crazy it was that this normally doesn't happen, I cuddled on him and he held me. 

sometimes we'll lay like this, if I'm playing a game and he wants to cuddle he'll just spread out on top of me, but I didn't hold him.

I woke up to the door opening and someone walking into the room, I don't even remember falling asleep. 

I squint my eyes open and see a figure I can only assume is jack, probably had to use the bathroom. 

I closed my tired eyes and rolled over into the blankets left bunched up on Jacks side, I feel him lay down behind me and move a little towards the middle of the bed knowing he probably doesn't have much room on that side. 

He just pulls me into him and hugs me from behind, holding on so tight and I remember last night when he wouldn't let go of me. 

"Jack?" I whispered in a groggy sleep filled voice. "Hmm?" I could feel the vibrations more then I could hear him, "wanna talk about what happened last night?" 

he stiffened a bit and there was a long pause before he finally whispered back "I don't want you to say anything, just listen and then I don't want to talk about it ever again." 

I stayed silent which he used as an agreement and sighed heavily before holding me a little tighter, finding my hand and holding it.

"you took your own life. You left, and you wrote me a letter explaining why, but it was stupid, and I was angry and sad and hurt. 

I lost you because you wouldn't talk to me, and I was so angry at you. I missed you and I hated it because you were gone." 

He was quite and some parts I almost missed, but once I heard what he said when it finally sunk in, we were both quiet. I had no words; I couldn't find my voice to reassure him. 

So, I turned around and held him as tight and close as I could and I kissed him so hard, it was fast and rough and not very enjoyable in any way. 

But it was me saying 'I'm still here, right In front of you' and so we laid there not speaking, just holding each other.

Reassuring each other we were both still right there, to hold and kiss and say I love you and hear it back. 

That's what we did, and when it was time to film the cover of the week, we stayed nearby and didn't let each other out of sight in fear one might breakdown, or even worse leave. 

And he meant to much to just let go.

1090 words

xoxo koda