Status: Complete, all chapters posted.
Letters on Leave
Tuesday January 8th, 2013
Dearest Emma, Tuesday January 8th, 2013
I spoke to you last night, and you’d just been placed on medical leave. I watched your blog throughout the night and at one point you had a post of the things you wanted to accomplish while you were away. You really seemed enthusiastic about getting better. I personally don’t think you’re broken or sick or damaged, whatever word they choose to define you. I just think you’re a little misguided. I know you asked me to keep “us”- whatever we are, on the down low but I just couldn’t help but to tell Morrow. I could say, “oh it’s a guy thing” but it’s really not. It’s a me thing, and I wanted to tell someone who knew you and would be impressed and happy and a little jealous of me. So, it was a choice between Morrow and Chloe, or the sailing kids; ultimately, Morrow was best choice. Don’t be mad, please, I just want to show you off.
I mean it sucks for me, to be crazy about you. I don’t even know if it’s well received or reciprocal! I was crazy about you the moment I saw you. I think you’re so beautiful, and you were so mysterious that day. The new girl, the hot new girl. Immediately I knew I wanted to befriend you. I mean I wanted more, but you are way out of my league, so I settled with friendship. The more we spoke the more I liked you. I smiled through hearing you had a boyfriend (even if I had no chance) even though I was so disapointed, yet far from surprised. We started talking even more, recently, and in spite of all your “bad habits” I still find myself crazy about you. I find myself on your blog constantly reloading in hopes to see a new post. I know it’ll seldom come, but I just want something to do with you. I feel so obsessive when I’m like this, I just, I don’t want to miss a thing. I want us to be inseparable, I want to be protective of you, I want to brag about you, but I also want to have my freedom, and I want you to care like I care, I want you to be equally as proud. I feel so annoying and I hope you don’t see me as though. I just... I feel like Pudge. I don’t want to be Pudge, I want to be your Colonel, I want to be your Jake.
I want to transition and truly be your Jake or Colonel. I want to be male, for me but also, for you. I don’t want you to have to explain, “he’s male but...” or something along those lines. I wish I were fully male in your eyes, I’m not too sure I am. That’s so upsetting... My body repulses me so much, especially times of intimacy. I hated that when your hands traveled my legs, and between them there was nothing there. It made me feel like I wasn’t enough of a man for you. And I know in my head that that’s a ridiculous statement and I define what a “real man” is. I don’t know my definition, but it sure as hell was not that feeling.
That feeling makes me question if we ever were to become something more than friends, or truly “dtr” if you’d be loyal. It’s not a reflection of you, it’s me- my own self doubt is warping how I understand reality. Right now it effects me so just to know you’re with someone else, Alex (Shatz), and you love someone else, Evan. What I mean by “effects” is just emotion pure raw emotion swelling within me. When I think of you sleeping with them, or loving them, it builds in my chest, it’s a tightness like anger, and the feeling raises into my throat, like sadness, and then settles in my body, I can hear it in my heart beat, I can feel it in my pulse, craving your attention. I feel so insignificant, I feel forgotten, even though I know I’m not. I feel so jealous of them. Shatz is the person I’d love to hate, he’s good looking, he’s tall, he’s aloof, and he’s got you; I just can’t bring myself to hating him. It’s usually ends up I don’t hate him, I just hate myself for not being like him.
I don’t want to become your Pudge but I feel it happening. I don’t want to be forgotten, but I feel that happening too. I’m no good for you, even though I’d do anything for you. I am torn between what I want and what’s good for you.
-I’ll add some more later. Now, I have to go.-
I suppose it’s later. I’m really pretty bummed. I miss you. I reread my letter from earlier, and I’m pretty disapointed with myself. I’m disapointed I let you become such a constant in my life. I’m disapointed because I told myself I’d always look out for you as a friend first. I didn’t do that, I was selfish and kissed you back. I know I’m not good for you, and I know that even with my best efforts I’ll still hurt you. Nights like these I wish we could go back to New Years Day. Drunk in my “living” room, cozy in bed cuddling and kissing. Laying with you in my arms, just thinking how nice your slender body felt, how warm. Breathing in your smell without a care in the world. I was so happy, not because I was drunk but, because I had the “hottest girl we know” (Morrow today) mine. Maybe just for a day, but still I was satisfied. Now I’m greedy and want you all to myself. When people tell me “your girlfriend is so pretty” or “damn, she’s a catch how’d you manage that” I want to be able to respond and say “my girlfriend is beautiful, she’s sexy, hot, and pretty, she’s smart and perfect” or “she is a catch, because she’s a fantastic person, she’s caring and ravishing as all hell; I’ve luck to thank, but lucks for suckers.”
I spoke to you last night, and you’d just been placed on medical leave. I watched your blog throughout the night and at one point you had a post of the things you wanted to accomplish while you were away. You really seemed enthusiastic about getting better. I personally don’t think you’re broken or sick or damaged, whatever word they choose to define you. I just think you’re a little misguided. I know you asked me to keep “us”- whatever we are, on the down low but I just couldn’t help but to tell Morrow. I could say, “oh it’s a guy thing” but it’s really not. It’s a me thing, and I wanted to tell someone who knew you and would be impressed and happy and a little jealous of me. So, it was a choice between Morrow and Chloe, or the sailing kids; ultimately, Morrow was best choice. Don’t be mad, please, I just want to show you off.
I mean it sucks for me, to be crazy about you. I don’t even know if it’s well received or reciprocal! I was crazy about you the moment I saw you. I think you’re so beautiful, and you were so mysterious that day. The new girl, the hot new girl. Immediately I knew I wanted to befriend you. I mean I wanted more, but you are way out of my league, so I settled with friendship. The more we spoke the more I liked you. I smiled through hearing you had a boyfriend (even if I had no chance) even though I was so disapointed, yet far from surprised. We started talking even more, recently, and in spite of all your “bad habits” I still find myself crazy about you. I find myself on your blog constantly reloading in hopes to see a new post. I know it’ll seldom come, but I just want something to do with you. I feel so obsessive when I’m like this, I just, I don’t want to miss a thing. I want us to be inseparable, I want to be protective of you, I want to brag about you, but I also want to have my freedom, and I want you to care like I care, I want you to be equally as proud. I feel so annoying and I hope you don’t see me as though. I just... I feel like Pudge. I don’t want to be Pudge, I want to be your Colonel, I want to be your Jake.
I want to transition and truly be your Jake or Colonel. I want to be male, for me but also, for you. I don’t want you to have to explain, “he’s male but...” or something along those lines. I wish I were fully male in your eyes, I’m not too sure I am. That’s so upsetting... My body repulses me so much, especially times of intimacy. I hated that when your hands traveled my legs, and between them there was nothing there. It made me feel like I wasn’t enough of a man for you. And I know in my head that that’s a ridiculous statement and I define what a “real man” is. I don’t know my definition, but it sure as hell was not that feeling.
That feeling makes me question if we ever were to become something more than friends, or truly “dtr” if you’d be loyal. It’s not a reflection of you, it’s me- my own self doubt is warping how I understand reality. Right now it effects me so just to know you’re with someone else, Alex (Shatz), and you love someone else, Evan. What I mean by “effects” is just emotion pure raw emotion swelling within me. When I think of you sleeping with them, or loving them, it builds in my chest, it’s a tightness like anger, and the feeling raises into my throat, like sadness, and then settles in my body, I can hear it in my heart beat, I can feel it in my pulse, craving your attention. I feel so insignificant, I feel forgotten, even though I know I’m not. I feel so jealous of them. Shatz is the person I’d love to hate, he’s good looking, he’s tall, he’s aloof, and he’s got you; I just can’t bring myself to hating him. It’s usually ends up I don’t hate him, I just hate myself for not being like him.
I don’t want to become your Pudge but I feel it happening. I don’t want to be forgotten, but I feel that happening too. I’m no good for you, even though I’d do anything for you. I am torn between what I want and what’s good for you.
-I’ll add some more later. Now, I have to go.-
I suppose it’s later. I’m really pretty bummed. I miss you. I reread my letter from earlier, and I’m pretty disapointed with myself. I’m disapointed I let you become such a constant in my life. I’m disapointed because I told myself I’d always look out for you as a friend first. I didn’t do that, I was selfish and kissed you back. I know I’m not good for you, and I know that even with my best efforts I’ll still hurt you. Nights like these I wish we could go back to New Years Day. Drunk in my “living” room, cozy in bed cuddling and kissing. Laying with you in my arms, just thinking how nice your slender body felt, how warm. Breathing in your smell without a care in the world. I was so happy, not because I was drunk but, because I had the “hottest girl we know” (Morrow today) mine. Maybe just for a day, but still I was satisfied. Now I’m greedy and want you all to myself. When people tell me “your girlfriend is so pretty” or “damn, she’s a catch how’d you manage that” I want to be able to respond and say “my girlfriend is beautiful, she’s sexy, hot, and pretty, she’s smart and perfect” or “she is a catch, because she’s a fantastic person, she’s caring and ravishing as all hell; I’ve luck to thank, but lucks for suckers.”