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2.19.14
dear brendon,
when you met her, i was with you. it was rainy, and beside me, you glowed like the sun. you were wearing a black pea coat that i’m pretty sure was a woman’s (“no,” you had insisted before we left the house. “it’s got a straight cut, not a curvy cut.” i’d been too impatient to argue) and your hair was messy, from the rain and from you running your fingers through it repeatedly as we drank our coffee. you smelled like wet cement and damp fabric. it was the best damn thing i’ve ever smelled.
“hey, ryan,” you said, turning to face me. your face was close to mine, since we were sitting outside on one of the raised brick walls that surrounded an enclosed piece of park. the bricks were cold under my legs. “do you think it’d be possible to make a coffee city? like, maybe freeze the coffee into bricks, and make a structure? not anything big, just like, a building or two.”
i stared at you. i had literally no idea where you got these ideas, but they always made me smile.
“um. i don’t know, bren.”
“can we try?” your voice filled with excitement and you just started fucking beaming. like if i said yes, you would just explode with happiness.
“sure,” i agreed, though i knew we never would. you always had ideas like this – they went as soon as they came.
you grinned at me and took a sip of your soy latte, then suddenly your eyes grew wide and you made a squeaking sound in the back of your throat.
i literally thought you were choking and was completely prepared to use the heimlich to save you, but then you swallowed and gasped. “do you see her?”
i blinked. “who?”
you nodded at someone and i followed your gaze. there, just stepping out of the coffee shop, was a girl. and even i couldn’t deny she was beautiful. silky black hair that poured over one shoulder, wide blue eyes. porcelain skin, pink cheeks. she was gorgeous.
“i need to talk to her,” you gasped. it sounded as if the air was burning through your lungs, like if you didn’t talk to her, you would evaporate into the rain. it reminded me of how i felt when i saw you.
and so i nodded, and stood up. “sure. let’s go.” and i lead the way, one foot in front of the other, to the girl who would surely steal you away from me, like the way the fierce winds and bitter ice of winter chases away the red and gold leaves and the smell of cinnamon and the feeling of autumn. the way periwinkle storm clouds and cold downpours evaporate sunny skies. the way you would forget me as soon as you learned her name.
she was leaning against the chilly looking wall, hands buried in her pockets, biting her lip. she looked lonely and i knew you were bewitched the moment you saw the way her eyelashes brushed her cheekbone every time she blinked, enchanted with her smile as soon as she turned it your direction, and in love with the nine freckles she had sprinkled across her nose because i know you, brendon, and i know how you fall.
“hi, my name’s brendon,” you said, bouncing up to her and smiling.
and because no one could ever resist your charm, and she turned and smiled and i could feel it as i started to lose you.
“sarah,” she said, shaking your hand. it disappeared in yours.
“nice to meet you,” you beamed, then stepped backwards. “this is my best friend, ryan.”
i smiled at you, and maybe you could tell it was forced because your smile faltered before you pasted it back on and shook my hand. “lovely to meet you, ryan.”
her voice was like powdered sugar and there was no way i could ever compare.
“you, too,” i said, smiling. then you and her started to talk and i fell into the background to you, just like i always do. i never used to mind – being with you is enough and i never liked the center of attention. but now, i just wanted to rip her away from you and stop you from talking more, from getting her number, from going on dates, from falling in love with someone that wasn’t me.
but there was nothing i could do. it had already started.
2.25.14
dear brendon,
it wasn’t really until you guys had been dating for about two months did i really talk to her.
and i need to make you understand, bren. i loved you. i still love you and i always will. i don’t hate her for no reason. actually, my main anger was that i didn’t hate her.
but anyways, sometime a few months later, she was at our house and you two were curled up on the couch, your hand on her thigh and her head between your shoulder and head and all i could feel right then was my fingernails dug into the soft skin of my palm and my bones felt like they were breaking to pieces and my head felt too heavy. love wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
anyways, she yawned and sat up. “i’m hungry.”
and of course this resulted in you getting up, and after arguing with her a little, you had your jacket on and were heading to her favorite restaurant (subway. you hated subway. how could you be with her?) to get her food and you were leaving us alone together.
“so,” she turned to face me as soon as you left. “have any embarrassing stories to tell me about brendon?”
and i couldn’t help but laugh and then i told her all the stories i knew and we laughed and jesus, i hated it. i hated it that she was just as lovely as you said, i hated that she was beautiful, i hated that she was everything i wasn’t and i couldn’t hate her because i actually liked hanging out with her and she was funny and bright and sweet and the thing is, if it wasn’t for you, i think we would have actually been friends.
but as it was, i only hung out with her when i had to.
another time was when we were drunk, and you disappeared into the bathroom and she was so hammered and leaned into me and said, her breath smelling like whiskey and flowers, “when i met you two i thought you were in love with him, i thought you would steal him from me.”
and i had just started to have hope, that maybe you talked about me to her in a way that was more than platonic, that maybe there was something there i hadn’t seen before when she laughed and said, “but that’s not happening,” and i’m sure my face fell and i’m sure my eyes got darker but either she didn’t notice or was too nice to say something. either way, i felt again like i was drowning. the room was too hot and too muffled, and i could not breathe. her perfume was too cloudy, too suffocating and all i wanted was you. i wanted the smell of your hair when it was raining and i wanted your arms wrapped around me right then, so you could calm me down and rescue me from the waves of hurt that were lapping higher and higher.
but when you did show up, your arm went right around her waist and your eyes didn’t even meet mine before flicking to look at her and you kissed her in front of me, eyes closed and i wished in that moment to die.
please god, all i wanted was you.
3.2.14
dear brendon,
when we were fifteen, and we spent our time in the garage with spencer and brent, before brent left, you told me i was beautiful.
it was a saturday evening and brent and spencer had left to go get snacks from spencer’s mom, and we were sitting on the kind of gross ripped up couch the smiths kept in their garage and talking about fall out boy and suddenly, in the middle of me ranting about patrick’s vocals, your eyes got all soft and you said, “you’re really beautiful, ryan.”
and i blushed to a stop, stuttering the last word out of my voice. i didn’t know what to say, because back then you were just the achingly pretty boy in our band and i wasn’t sure i was gay yet, and i didn’t know what the butterflies in my stomach i got when i saw you meant, and i didn’t know why your eyes always seemed to captivate me, or why if you looked in my garbage can, you’d find tons of crumpled papers with broken up pieces of songs about brown haired boys with beautiful eyes. i didn’t know i loved you then.
so i just smiled and said “thank you” in a small voice that sounded scared (because i was) and tried to pretend my cheeks weren’t bright red and my soul wasn’t exploding with a thousand emotions (who knew that happiness could come in a such a small package of four words strung together) and everything felt red in the best sort of way.
and then spencer and brent came back with cokes and brownies (we all loved mrs. smith’s cooking) and there was laughter and beaming and good times and man, maybe the best of times were before we got famous. do you ever think that? that maybe we were better off as a nondescript garage band with no pressure of being famous, with brent laughing into spencer’s shoulder and you stuffing your face with brownies and spencer giggling into his coke and me smiling at you all. maybe we were all happier like that.
i don’t know. sometimes i wonder about all that. the what ifs, and what could have beens.
maybe it would have been better.
maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this bad.
3.10.14
dear brendon,
you love her you love her you love why do these words make my jaw lock and my chest ache?
in high school they never taught you how to stop loving someone so i know that the universe is ever expanding and i know the square root of eighty-one and i know the metabolism of a dog but i still don’t know how to stop my throat from fucking burning whenever i see your face.
jesus christ, brendon. she is the sun and i am the moon and good lord, i know that. i do. my hands shake when hers stay steady and she can sleep through the night without waking up in terror, shielding herself from things that doesn’t exist. my eyes are dark while hers are sunshine and i can’t breathe without feeling my ribs collapse a little bit more. she laughs like mountain rivers flow and speaks like june. she is summer and i am winter, she is day and i am night, she is life and i am death. i’m so fucking sorry i miss you oh god i’m sorry
3.17.14
dear brendon,
imagine a love like i write about. imagine a love like what everyone talks about.
imagine dating and awkward hand holding and hugs and eye contact and smiles as you both glance away. imagine the kind of love you find in coffee shops on rainy days and talking over lattes and brushing of hands and blushes and exchanging phone numbers. imagine hushed whispers and first dates and awkward conversation over bad food, imagine giving up and going back your apartment with a bottle of wine, imagine the second date, third, fourth, fifth, imagine warm rain and car rides and hot kisses, imagine the months adding up, imagine hipbones fitting against thighs like puzzle pieces.
god, imagine storybook classic, fairytale-esque love. imagine a boy meeting a girl and knowing instantly she is the one, and sending her letters until she realized it too. imagine princesses and princes and falling in love at first sight and big weddings and roses and powder sugar kisses and gross drunk kisses that smell like vodka and orange juice and slurring secrets into each other’s ears. imagine sex on the rug and scratches up and down your back and hickies.
i mean have you ever received a love letter, can you imagine the amount of love that’s woven into the paper? the rants about the soft arch of eyebrows and the dancing of light across cheekbones.
i was watching you sleep the other day. you ended up in my house because sarah was off with her friends and you were lonely, you said.
you fell asleep on my couch while we were watching a movie about how facebook was made, and i couldn’t take my eyes off you.
oh god, brendon. you’re so beautiful. you have freckles on your chin that you can only see from a certain light angle, and your chest rises and falls with the sureness of ocean waves. i can see your eyelashes and the starlight that clings to every pore on your skin. there are sunsets in your eyes and rivers in your hair.
fuck. you are my world.
4.5.14
dear brendon,
you told me that you and sarah are having problems.
what does this mean? you looked so tired. you kept running your hand through your hair, but in a way that seemed anxious, and your nails were all bitten off. you only do that when you’re stressed.
i’m really worried, but i won’t press you. and i hope you solve it, whatever it is. i honestly do. she makes you happy, bren. i can’t hate her.
but is it wrong i feel hopeful?
love,
ryan
p.s i realize i haven’t been signing these letters. oh well. you’ll know they’re from me if i ever send them.
4.17.14
dear brendon,
HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO YOU I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THE IDEA OF YOU HURTING FEELS LIKE BURNING, ITS CAUSTIC ON MY FINGERTIPS JESUS BREN I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
4.20.14
dear brendon,
oh my god i am so, so sorry.
i don’t know why she did this. you don’t deserve this baby. no one deserves this.
oh god i can see how your soul would break in your eyes as the words fell from her mouth, i can feel the shake of your hands and the shattering of your ribcage and the breaking of your heart. are you okay?
its raining and i need to make sure you’re okay.
4.30.14
dear brendon,
you’re sleeping on my lap.
how could she ever stop loving you enough to have sex with someone else?
good god, it’s been years and you’re still all i see. she had you. she woke up in your arms every morning and saw your face before she fell asleep. she got to be there when you broke down, she got to be the one you ran to, she got to be the one you stayed up late watching crappy tv with. how could she ever get tired of that? i wouldn’t. every day with you would feel like a new adventure.
and like, it’s not like it was even once. it wasn’t a mistake. it’s been consistent. how long has she done this to you, bren? how long have you known?
maybe you always have and yet couldn’t let her go.
is it weird i understand that? god, i would take anything from you just to be the person you call at 1 am because you can’t sleep. it’s all worth it. you’re worth everything.
spencer and jon showed up today. we all bashed sarah together, and you joined in. even though i could tell your heart wasn’t in it. your heart’s all the way back at l.a, your heart has blue eyes and black hair and skin like ivory, your heart is breaking as you speak and no one can fix it, except for her.
i’m so sorry, baby.
i hope you can heal.
yours always,
ryan
5.5.14
dear brendon,
you sleep with me.
i know you dream about her, bren. and it’s okay. it’s okay. you’ll be okay.
i mean, i’m not sure if i’ll be. every time you murmur her name my burns to the tempo of your voice but that’s okay. because i’m making you happy.
i don’t ever want to forget this. your toes always dig their way into my calves. i think you get cold in the middle of the night. and your always curl up against me in the beginning but stretch out towards the end. your arm is always thrown across my shoulders in the morning as you snore loudly, the sunlight playing games out across your face. i would rather watch the light hit your face than a sunset.
you wake up slowly and sleepily, with drowsy smiles and humming.
“morning,” you’ll groan. i will smile and say, “morning,” back.
and then you’ll roll into me, your arms encircling my back and i know you never mean anything by it. you’ve always been a person that strives for touching, like it’s something you rely on. whenever you’re around someone, you just look like you’re pulled to touch them. like you are magnets.
it’s really fucking adorable.
so is the way you can’t sit still, no matter what. always moving something, whether it be the tips of your fingers or you scrunching your nose, you are moving. and it’s the cutest thing i’ve ever seen.
even in your sleep, you move.
i am still not sure how she could ever even consider giving this up. my god, i would trade all the galaxies to be the one to get this every morning because you are my skies and you are my constellations and you are planets and you are my black holes, you are my universe. i love you.
yours always,
ryan
5.12.14
IT’S SO FUCKING NOT OKAY HOW YOU THOUGHT I WOULD BE OKAY BECAUSE RIGHT NOW, I AM THE FARTHEST THING FROM OKAY AND EVERY SINGLE SECOND OF MY NEVER ENDING MISERY IS YOUR FAULT AND I HOPE THAT ONE DAY YOU READ THIS AND CRY BECAUSE YOU REALIZE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN SHE EVER COULD
5.12.14
you kissed her how could you do this how could you take her back everything hurts
5.12.14
i love you i love you i love you you love her
5.25.14
dear brendon,
the heat is starting to climb. you came stumbling into my room last night. you’ve been drunk ever since she pushed you away again when you tried to make up with her. i shouldn’t let you fall apart like this but i don’t know what to do. you’re only trying to forget. i wish i could forget with you.
not to forget you. just to forget the hurt.
i wish you loved me too. i really do. but i can’t make you, and i still love you. i always will, okay? i’m always here to hold your hand if you need me to.
yours always,
ryan
6.2.14
dear brendon,
you told me you didn’t love her anymore today.
we were sitting at my kitchen table, eating cereal and arguing about something. i forget what. and you just read the back of the cereal box for a second then shrugged and looked up. “i don’t love sarah anymore.”
i almost choked on my cocoa puffs. “what?”
you sighed. “i don’t know. she’s just. she doesn’t feel the same to me, anymore.”
and it’s weird, but i knew exactly what you meant. she wasn’t the same sarah you loved.
“okay,” i said. “that’s good.”
then you looked at me with wide brown eyes, and i felt like i was supposed to do something. but i didn’t know what, and your face kind of… fell. and i felt guilty, though i didn’t know what for.
what’s up with that?
6.14.14
dear brendon,
summer nights with you are magical.
winter you is nice too. god, you’re always nice.
in the winter, i get you in cranberry colored hats and fuzzy sweaters. i get you with flushed pink cheeks and a sniffly nose, i get you with snowflakes clinging to your eyelashes and beaming smiles. i get you with hot chocolate breath and christmas excitement.
in the summer, i get you and skin. oh my god, summer you kills me. i get condensation on glasses and no shirt (you’re gonna fucking kill me) and sweat on your forehead and tank tops and you in the streetlights, turning to smile at me. i get sunscreen and beaches and sand literally everywhere.
basically, the moral of this is that you’re still the most beautiful person i’ve ever met.
you held my hand. it felt like home.
6.29.14
dear brendon,
july feels like it’s going to be special.
7.6.14
dear brendon,
what’s up with you????
you’ve been so…. sad lately. and you look at me when i’m not looking, like you’re missing something you’ve never really had. i’m worried. you okay? i want to ask you but i won’t. i assume you’ll tell me when you want to.
jon and spencer came over the other day. they kept exchanging glances and looking at us. i’m not sure what this means. they also thought it was weird when you laid down the couch and put your head in my lap. this is normal brendon and ryan behavior. it has been ever since you showed up here after sarah and you ended.
but they thought it was weird. i could tell. spencer is my best friend, after all, and i can read his eyebrows like no one’s fucking business. he suspects something.
i mean, he does know i’ve loved you for pretty much my whole life. but besides that.
7.15.14
dear brendon,
god, you’ve been touching me so much lately and i hate it but i love it.
not touching like, sexually, though. you hook your pinkie around mine and maybe your knee presses against mine, or maybe it’s your cheek on my shoulder. or sometimes, if i’m lucky, your hand in mine.
you’re really torturing me here.
7.15.14
whisper babe.. i'm as good as it gets in this town. whisper babe.. i'm a fever you can't sweat out. these are my deepest thoughts and secrets under a microscope or under a spotlight. forgive me if i'm not quite ready to give them to you. it's just such a different feeling.. when i see you smiling and singing back to me, i'm still playing different pictures in my head that aren't so pleasant. i'm doing my best...
7.25.14
YOU KISSED ME WHA THE FUCK IS GOING ON JESUS YOUR LIPS FELT LIKE RED
7.25.14
brendon????
7.31.14
you’re so fucking stupid. oh my god.
of course i like you, you fucking idiot. i love you!! i’ve loved you for years and years!! you are my sunsets and my pictures and my laughter lines, you are red and blue and the color of the sunset on the ocean. you are l.a at night and new york at noon, you are torrential downpour and skinned knees, you are spilled ink and blank pages and childhood memories. you are hot chocolate and kissing under blankets. you are poetry and starlight and new music. you are eyeliner and universes and the hormones cocaine releases. you are fall out boy’s new songs, you are the way pete looks at patrick, you are song lyrics i write at 2:33 am in an empty parking lot somewhere when i should be sleeping, you are warm sheets and cold pillows. you are cosmos and galaxies and constellations and stars and planets and countries and everything.
8.23.14
dear brendon,
i have never been so happy.
i feel as if sunlight is exploding from me, i feel like there are blue skies and cotton candy hidden in my eyes, i feel like people could just look at me and get some of this exploding, all intense, all consuming happiness.
jesus, you make fucking coffee feel like disney world. how can i be this happy? i didn’t know it was possible. the smile on my face has only left so i can kiss you.
you are home.
9.14.14
dear brendon,
i think maybe i’ll give you these letters sometime.
10.3.14
dear brendon,
i will take care of you.
4.14.17
so glad to be yours forever
1.2.20
i clicked my heels and wished for you.