Tripping| Van McCann

19. The Letter

Sammy's POV

I watched him stepping back, giving me a big smile, smiling reluctantly so that it and the moment might last. I wanted that too. His eyes stayed on mine for the last time, then he turned away and started walking. I stared at the sight of his figure until it disappeared at the landing. I shut the door behind me, went for the luggage and started unpacking the items. The letter could wait a bit. I told myself.

An hour later, I was done with the brief setting up of my side of the room. I'd left the wall blank to let whoever's going to be my roommate to decide for me instead. I took a quick rinse and ambled back to the desk where I left the envelope on. I gazed at it for a while before I finally took on the courage to open it and read the content inside. It started like this:

Dear Sammy,

I don't know how to tell this to you in person, so I'd written a letter instead. Hope you won't find it incredibly nagging.

I wanted to tell you that I'd loved this two weeks we've spent together, and I had absolutely nothing to regret of, from the second I hit the gas pedal to the second that the trip is going to end. (Mind you that I write this on the exact same day when I reckon you must be reading it on the bed of your new dorm.)  Certainly, you may feel that things were strange for you for a few days, and that afterwards it's all fine again. And it's like I'm that big moody prick here, and I just felt like I don't know how to put this straight and nice enough to say it to you.

Okay, so this is the moment of truth, I suppose? That being said, I think I'm in love with you, Sammy. Even when it's the first time I've seen you at dinner with my family and your mum I felt the peace between us. And it was so coherent and I was always at ease with your presence. I don't know how this will sound to you, but that's all I'd want to say. And I hope it's not too late and you'd at least know the things that I've been thinking about these days—sorry that I might look a bit out of place and detached. I'm not demanding a reply from you. You don't have to. And that's the sole purpose of this letter. Hope you find my handwriting easy to cope with. And I'd say it once more. Sammy, I'm in love with you.

Best wishes,
Van x

I felt the corner of my eyes wet with tears. I laid myself down on the thin plain white sheets of the single bed, taking the letter in my right, holding my phone in my left. I scrolled down my list of contacts and his name popped out. And I was on the verge of pressing the button, one Millimeter to a phone call. But I doubted it would work like magic, calling him back from miles away, asking him to stay longer with me until my roommate moved in. That's way too selfish. I thought he'd known how I felt. And what a shame it was that he didn't and thought of himself a complete coward. I wished I could state things clear and loud to him, that I also thought, maybe I'm in love with this guy. But I never came close, so as he.

I wiped my tears away with my bare arm. The tears stank onto the skin and it felt damp and uncomfortable. But at the moment I was far too bothered to care about it. And I read the letter from the first word to the last over and over again for several times. Then I found myself asleep with the paper still within my grasp when there's a few light knocks on the door. I stood up and walked towards it, unlatched the latch and turned the knob clockwise. My mouth almost dropped open when I saw him appearing before me again, and I palmed my face for three times to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"You're alright?" He raised an eyebrow, withholding some distance between me and him. And there I was, couldn't stop the tears from shedding. "Shit, you've read it, innit?" His shift in tone was so goddamned obvious and I just wanted to give him at least a ball of fists. He reached his arms out for me and I turned my head away. My throat felt too dry to be able to speak. "You're such an idiot," I managed to sputter the words out syllable by syllable. So it could at least tear him up a bit.