Richie carefully opened the lid to the mysterious box. It was full of letters and pictures. Richie picked up the top letter.
My dearest Richie,
It is August 22nd, 1989. I decided today I will be writing you letters about how I feel and things I'm too scared to say. You'll probably never read these and I prefer it that way. You're the only thing that makes me feel safe. The only thing keeping me grounded. You don't understand at all, do you? Maybe you do and I'm so caught up in my own feelings to notice. Is that selfish? I hope it isn't. I hate the word selfish. It's always used to describe people who think about what's best for them, I admire that. I love it when people think about there necessities first. It's a wonderful trait.
Is it normal to be in love with your best friend? Asking for a friend.
Love,
Eddie
~
Richie grabbed another letter.
Richie,
I think I'm gay. Is that bad? Should I swallow down my feelings and ignore them for the rest of my life? I catch myself praying to God that my sins will go away. I don't even believe in God. Should I stop writing about this? I'd be disowmed Richie. My mother would kick me out. I would have nothing. I can't even walk through the store without having intrusive thoughts.
Love,
Eddie
~
Richie felt his eyes get watery. He dug through the box to try to find a more recent letter.
10/6/2003
Richie,
I love you. I fucking love you. I'm married. But, I love you. I can't handle it anymore Chee. I love you. I love you God damn it. I want everything with you. I can't even look at Myra without wanting to punch myself. I want you. I've wanted you this whole time. Your hair, your hands, your shoulders, your eyes, your glasses, your legs, your torso, your arms, your jaw, your ears, your nose, everything. I need it. I can't go a day without thinking about how different my life could be. I hate it here.
Love,
Eddie
~
Richie couldn't breathe. He could feel everything crumble around him. He frantically grabbed another letter. It was folded and it said 'one last time' on the front.
Dear Richie,
This will be my last letter to you. It'll be my last everything. I can't handle it anymore. I'll never get the life I want so why should I be living this life? Is this selfish? It is. It most diffenitly is. But I'm fucking sick of not thinking for myself. This is what I want. People dream of having my life. I have a good job, a wife, a beautiful daughter. But, I dont want it. Someone else deserves it, I dont. I can't look at myself anymore. I've been living a lie for so long. I thought that if I got married to a nice girl all my feelings towards you would go away. Of course they didn't. I don't know why I thought they would. I chose to get down on one knee and propose to her. I chose to say I do on my wedding day. I chose to do all of that. It's all my fault Richie. I can't do it anymore. This is bound to happen, this is what I'm supposed to do. I'm not supposed to be here anymoore. I can't. The world isn't welcoming me. I need to leave for good. I feel selfish, so selfish. Leaving my daughter without a dad, leaving my wife without a husband, leaving everything. I have to do this. I'm sorry Richie. I love you, I always have and I always will. I love you more than you'll ever know. Never forget me. We'll meet again Richie. Please don't forget me. I'm begging you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I fucking love you. You'll be okay. You're okay now.
Yours and yours forever,
Eddie Kaspbrak
AN thats a wrap! I had fun writing this and I hope you had fun reading it!
My other stories are,
working for the cool kids- maylor
Don't Be Scared- Maylor
I'm No Good- Drarry
Let's Dance- Ferard
It would mean a lot if you checked them out!
-GROOVYLADY
