I'm Okay, Don't Worry
1
Sophia,
I hope you’re doing well.
Ben furrowed his brow as he reread what he had just written. His hand writing was sloppy and rushed. The ink was bleeding into the paper where he had pressed too hard. He read the words again. They didn’t seem right. They didn’t seem like what he really wanted to say. He never actually called her Sophia. The first and only sentence was too well put together for it to seem like he was writing it. Everything about it was all wrong.
He crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash bin. He grabbed another blank sheet and started again.
Sophie,
How are you?
Again, the letter, although only one sentence long, wasn’t good enough. Of course he knew how she was. He had been getting her letters for months now. Since last September, not a single week had been skipped. If there was a holiday, she sent it out early. No matter what, there was always a letter in his box from Sophia Mills. He had yet to send her a single one. He wanted to, so badly. He would write out everything he was feeling at that moment. He’d seal it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, then set it on his counter. He’d pace the small kitchen, debating whether to actually send it out. Every time he’d chicken out and throw it in an old shoebox. Over the days, he had accumulated more than 30 letters, all addressed to her. Not a single one was opened.
Sophia and Ben had met almost a year ago in America. Sophia was there visiting a friend. Ben was there on tour with his band. It was one of those cliche love stories. Girl meets boy, they both fall madly in love, then they’re tragically torn apart by something they couldn’t control. They had agreed to write to one another, once Ben was back home in London for an extended amount of time. They never texted. They never emailed or anything else. They only wrote letters. Well, she only wrote letters.
Ben was scared to let her know how he felt. He wanted her to come visit him. He wanted to hold her like they had at that bonfire after show in Indianapolis. He wanted to kiss her for the first time. He wanted to hold her hand. He had never fallen for someone so quickly and so passionately. This was new to him.
It terrified him.
He threw out that sheet of paper and started again on a new one. He stared at the blank, white paper, this time, not writing anything. He shut his eyes and yelled in fustration, throwing the pen he was holding across the room. He threw himself off the chair and stomped out the front door. Maybe a walk to the mailbox would do him good. The mail should have ran about twenty minutes ago.
He strode out the door, in nothing but a pair of black shorts and flip flops, treading across the grass. Danny always got angry at him for not using the sidewalk like a ‘normal person’.
Once he got to the small box, he opened it up to find only a single envelope inside. A small, almost perfectly square pouch, with his name written in fine, neat writing on the front, along with his address.
Another letter from Sophie.
He dragged himself back inside. He opened the envelope carefully as to not rip the paper apart. It opened neatly without a single tear. He pulled the folded up paper out and unfolded it quickly. He read the soft, slanted penmanship out loud.
Dear Ben,
It’s been almost seven months now since you’ve left. I’ve written you a letter every week since then. That’s almost 30 letters total. I’m not sure if you’re not getting these or if you’re just not willing to write back. I miss knowing what’s going on with you. I’ve heard from Danny, Sam, James, hell, even Cam has messaged me a few times since you guys left. You’re the only one I’ve heard from.
That’s why I’m starting to think these messages should stop. I feel like I’m the only one putting an effort into anything. I don’t even get a simple hello from you anymore. It’s breaking my heart. I like you a lot, Ben. I hope you understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.
Always,
Sophie.
Frustrated, he threw the letter down. All he had to do was write a letter. One fucking letter was all he had to send. He didn’t though. He wrote so many. He had to fix this. He loved Sophia with everything he had. He loved her light brown hair, the way she laughed, how she held his hand and how she’d sit an watch any movie with him. He loved how she’d curl up beside him and just sleep, only slightly snoring to the point it was too fucking cute. He missed her. All he was doing was sitting around waiting for the right moment, when the right moment had never ended. He should have just asked her out while they were still together, so he’d have a believable reason to go and stay with her after they had finished the tour. Instead, they just stayed friends. His family wouldn’t see a reason for him to leave if she was just a good pal he met on tour. He had to fix this.
It was 7 o’clock in the morning when Sophia’s alarm went off, buzzing wildly. She stretched, her flat stomach peeking out from beneath her tank top as she reached her arms above her. She yawned loudly and reluctantly got out of bed. She stumbled across the cold, hardwood floors, not bothering to put on slippers. She made her way into the kitchen where her coffee was already set to brew. She had a lot to do today. She was spending her day off cleaning the place up and rearranging furniture. It had become a habit of hers lately, constantly looking for something new to do with the place.
She reached up for her coffee cup and sat it down on the counter. Instead of the normal sound porcelain on marble would make, it was dulled a bit. Muffled, if you will, and quite strange. She looked down and noticed a small, square piece of paper on the counter. In cursive, sloppy but equally elegant, her name was marked across the front. Her address, along with stamps adorned the front. Confused, she opened the back carefully. She took out the folded piece of paper. The same, messy scrawl was on this sheet.
My Darling,
I understand your frustrations. I understand you don’t want to continue writing me because I never write back. The truth is, I do write back. You just never receive them. I write everything I want to say and then chicken out and keep it in a box. Locked away for good.
I hope you can forgive me. You’ll find another on your back porch, along with a gift.
Always,
Ben.
In a leap of excitement, she hurried out the sliding glass doors on the other end of the house. Sure enough, another envelope was waiting on her. She opened this one just was quickly as the last. She read it out loud in her haste.
My Darling,
I hope you got to this before the wind blew it away. There’s just one thing I need you to do, now.
Close your eyes.
Sophie carefully looked around, confused as to if she should follow the directions. What if they’re not really from Ben? She shook the doubts from her head and shut her eyes slowly. Suddenly, she was met with the sound of someone else around her. She jumped and almost opened her eyes.
“Don’t,” the voice was deep and laced thick with an English accent. She smiled.
Then, her lips were met with another pair. Her mouth filled with the taste of cigarettes and mouthwash, yet still sweet, like candy. Two hands came to either side of her face as she fell into him, holding onto him for dear life. When the kiss ended, she opened her eyes to see Ben Bruce right before her, just as she had seen over 7 months before.
“Why are you here?” She asked. He rolled his eyes.
“I come all this way to see you and the only thing you can ask me is why I’m here?” She laughed.
“I’m serious, though,”
“I needed to prove to you I tried to write you,” He stepped away and reached behind him on the table, where a small shoebox sat. He picked it up and handed it to her. It was filled to brim with unopened letters.
“What’s this?”
“A letter for every week we were apart. All the ones I was going to send but never got to,” she flipped through them all. “But this one,” he said, taking one from his back pocket. “Is the most recent. Here,” he handed her the letter. “Read it,”
“Right now?” she asked, taking it from his hand. He nodded in response.
She unsealed the letter and took out the paper, reading it carefully to herself.
Dear Sophia,
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I should have sent all those letters. I should have let you know that I wanted to talk to you and that you never left my mind. I think about you every single day that you’re not right beside me. It kills me to know I’m not there with you. It hurts falling asleep alone. It’s painful to read about your life and know that you know nothing about mine.
I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to ever have to leave you alone. Take this however heartfelt or lightly you’d like, but I love you, Sophia. I should have said something to you earlier. I need you, though. I need you more than anything in the world. I just have one question:
be my girlfriend?
The letter wasn’t signed. It just ended with a question. Sophia smiled and looked up at Ben.
“It’s everything I’ve wanted to say for the past seven months. All the other letters are pretty much just like that, except I never say I love you or ask you to be my girlfriend. I think in one I talk about Danny accidentally eating a spider or something,” she smiled and placed the letter in the box with the others. “So, will you be my girlfriend?”
She leaned closer and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Of course,”
I hope you’re doing well.
Ben furrowed his brow as he reread what he had just written. His hand writing was sloppy and rushed. The ink was bleeding into the paper where he had pressed too hard. He read the words again. They didn’t seem right. They didn’t seem like what he really wanted to say. He never actually called her Sophia. The first and only sentence was too well put together for it to seem like he was writing it. Everything about it was all wrong.
He crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash bin. He grabbed another blank sheet and started again.
Sophie,
How are you?
Again, the letter, although only one sentence long, wasn’t good enough. Of course he knew how she was. He had been getting her letters for months now. Since last September, not a single week had been skipped. If there was a holiday, she sent it out early. No matter what, there was always a letter in his box from Sophia Mills. He had yet to send her a single one. He wanted to, so badly. He would write out everything he was feeling at that moment. He’d seal it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, then set it on his counter. He’d pace the small kitchen, debating whether to actually send it out. Every time he’d chicken out and throw it in an old shoebox. Over the days, he had accumulated more than 30 letters, all addressed to her. Not a single one was opened.
Sophia and Ben had met almost a year ago in America. Sophia was there visiting a friend. Ben was there on tour with his band. It was one of those cliche love stories. Girl meets boy, they both fall madly in love, then they’re tragically torn apart by something they couldn’t control. They had agreed to write to one another, once Ben was back home in London for an extended amount of time. They never texted. They never emailed or anything else. They only wrote letters. Well, she only wrote letters.
Ben was scared to let her know how he felt. He wanted her to come visit him. He wanted to hold her like they had at that bonfire after show in Indianapolis. He wanted to kiss her for the first time. He wanted to hold her hand. He had never fallen for someone so quickly and so passionately. This was new to him.
It terrified him.
He threw out that sheet of paper and started again on a new one. He stared at the blank, white paper, this time, not writing anything. He shut his eyes and yelled in fustration, throwing the pen he was holding across the room. He threw himself off the chair and stomped out the front door. Maybe a walk to the mailbox would do him good. The mail should have ran about twenty minutes ago.
He strode out the door, in nothing but a pair of black shorts and flip flops, treading across the grass. Danny always got angry at him for not using the sidewalk like a ‘normal person’.
Once he got to the small box, he opened it up to find only a single envelope inside. A small, almost perfectly square pouch, with his name written in fine, neat writing on the front, along with his address.
Another letter from Sophie.
He dragged himself back inside. He opened the envelope carefully as to not rip the paper apart. It opened neatly without a single tear. He pulled the folded up paper out and unfolded it quickly. He read the soft, slanted penmanship out loud.
Dear Ben,
It’s been almost seven months now since you’ve left. I’ve written you a letter every week since then. That’s almost 30 letters total. I’m not sure if you’re not getting these or if you’re just not willing to write back. I miss knowing what’s going on with you. I’ve heard from Danny, Sam, James, hell, even Cam has messaged me a few times since you guys left. You’re the only one I’ve heard from.
That’s why I’m starting to think these messages should stop. I feel like I’m the only one putting an effort into anything. I don’t even get a simple hello from you anymore. It’s breaking my heart. I like you a lot, Ben. I hope you understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.
Always,
Sophie.
Frustrated, he threw the letter down. All he had to do was write a letter. One fucking letter was all he had to send. He didn’t though. He wrote so many. He had to fix this. He loved Sophia with everything he had. He loved her light brown hair, the way she laughed, how she held his hand and how she’d sit an watch any movie with him. He loved how she’d curl up beside him and just sleep, only slightly snoring to the point it was too fucking cute. He missed her. All he was doing was sitting around waiting for the right moment, when the right moment had never ended. He should have just asked her out while they were still together, so he’d have a believable reason to go and stay with her after they had finished the tour. Instead, they just stayed friends. His family wouldn’t see a reason for him to leave if she was just a good pal he met on tour. He had to fix this.
It was 7 o’clock in the morning when Sophia’s alarm went off, buzzing wildly. She stretched, her flat stomach peeking out from beneath her tank top as she reached her arms above her. She yawned loudly and reluctantly got out of bed. She stumbled across the cold, hardwood floors, not bothering to put on slippers. She made her way into the kitchen where her coffee was already set to brew. She had a lot to do today. She was spending her day off cleaning the place up and rearranging furniture. It had become a habit of hers lately, constantly looking for something new to do with the place.
She reached up for her coffee cup and sat it down on the counter. Instead of the normal sound porcelain on marble would make, it was dulled a bit. Muffled, if you will, and quite strange. She looked down and noticed a small, square piece of paper on the counter. In cursive, sloppy but equally elegant, her name was marked across the front. Her address, along with stamps adorned the front. Confused, she opened the back carefully. She took out the folded piece of paper. The same, messy scrawl was on this sheet.
My Darling,
I understand your frustrations. I understand you don’t want to continue writing me because I never write back. The truth is, I do write back. You just never receive them. I write everything I want to say and then chicken out and keep it in a box. Locked away for good.
I hope you can forgive me. You’ll find another on your back porch, along with a gift.
Always,
Ben.
In a leap of excitement, she hurried out the sliding glass doors on the other end of the house. Sure enough, another envelope was waiting on her. She opened this one just was quickly as the last. She read it out loud in her haste.
My Darling,
I hope you got to this before the wind blew it away. There’s just one thing I need you to do, now.
Close your eyes.
Sophie carefully looked around, confused as to if she should follow the directions. What if they’re not really from Ben? She shook the doubts from her head and shut her eyes slowly. Suddenly, she was met with the sound of someone else around her. She jumped and almost opened her eyes.
“Don’t,” the voice was deep and laced thick with an English accent. She smiled.
Then, her lips were met with another pair. Her mouth filled with the taste of cigarettes and mouthwash, yet still sweet, like candy. Two hands came to either side of her face as she fell into him, holding onto him for dear life. When the kiss ended, she opened her eyes to see Ben Bruce right before her, just as she had seen over 7 months before.
“Why are you here?” She asked. He rolled his eyes.
“I come all this way to see you and the only thing you can ask me is why I’m here?” She laughed.
“I’m serious, though,”
“I needed to prove to you I tried to write you,” He stepped away and reached behind him on the table, where a small shoebox sat. He picked it up and handed it to her. It was filled to brim with unopened letters.
“What’s this?”
“A letter for every week we were apart. All the ones I was going to send but never got to,” she flipped through them all. “But this one,” he said, taking one from his back pocket. “Is the most recent. Here,” he handed her the letter. “Read it,”
“Right now?” she asked, taking it from his hand. He nodded in response.
She unsealed the letter and took out the paper, reading it carefully to herself.
Dear Sophia,
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I should have sent all those letters. I should have let you know that I wanted to talk to you and that you never left my mind. I think about you every single day that you’re not right beside me. It kills me to know I’m not there with you. It hurts falling asleep alone. It’s painful to read about your life and know that you know nothing about mine.
I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to ever have to leave you alone. Take this however heartfelt or lightly you’d like, but I love you, Sophia. I should have said something to you earlier. I need you, though. I need you more than anything in the world. I just have one question:
be my girlfriend?
The letter wasn’t signed. It just ended with a question. Sophia smiled and looked up at Ben.
“It’s everything I’ve wanted to say for the past seven months. All the other letters are pretty much just like that, except I never say I love you or ask you to be my girlfriend. I think in one I talk about Danny accidentally eating a spider or something,” she smiled and placed the letter in the box with the others. “So, will you be my girlfriend?”
She leaned closer and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Of course,”