original fic/ Letters
Dear Lawrence
It’s weird for me to write to you, isn’t it? We used to spend so much time together when we were brats, actually till we went to college! Do you remember our room? It was a complete mess all the time and you were always complaining about my clothes all over the floor and even over your books now and then.
I know that I haven’t written to you for a long time, too much, at least for how I feel it.
I just couldn’t bring myself to do it after that last year in college, after that time that I found you kissing her. She was my girlfriend, man! And I just couldn’t accept it, I couldn’t accept it for a long time. But it has been hard, in the end you had always been with me, you know, just there, where I needed you to be.
Then Thom told me that you and Rachel were expecting a baby, and, well, as you see I couldn’t help to write you. At first I though about calling you, actually, but then I’m not ashamed to say that I was afraid. I haven’t heard your voice for such a long time, and I thought that probably I would have hung up the phone after your “hello”.
So well here I am, wishing your son or daughter happiness, but mainly telling you that I miss you, that I’ve missed you during all these years.
You know, there have been little things such as my first salary, or my first trip to Europe, which I had the sensation that could have been different if you had been there.
I’m not able to write down that single word that I should say or write yet, but you know me better than anyone and I’m sure that you’ve understood what I want to say by now. And I wonder if I did the right thing writing to you, because if you’ve become the writer which you wanted to be, well probably I’ll cry reading your answer.
John
- - -
Dear John,
I couldn’t believe my own eyes when I found your letter in the mailbox. Was it Thom who gave you the address or did you find it out by yourself?
But, well, these are stupid questions, aren’t they? The truth is that now I have your letter here, now I can see your handwriting, so familiar, just as it was when we were in high school, a bit inclined to the side and childish. Believe me when I say that I miss that too, even your stupid handwriting. I’ve missed you, your jokes and your laughs.
Do you remember when we were kids and we used to look at the stars with your dad’s telescope on summer nights? You used to point at some random constellation and make up some stupid stories about it. I had always been the shy one, but you were there backing me up. I’m not lying when I say that I’ve considered you as a brother, the brother whom I didn’t have.
I know that I hurt you, and it killed me back then and it kills me still now, to know that you’ve felt betrayed, that I did something bad to you, who had always been my landmark. I’m sorry that I wasn’t the one to be brave enough to pick up the phone and call you, I should have been the first one apologize. And it moved me so much to see that you were strong enough to write to me, that you wanted to wish me and Rachel happiness with this new born coming. I’ve learnt so much thanks to you, I’ve learnt how to be steady on my feet, and all thanks to your patience and your friendship.
I want to be the first one to say that word, because you should be the one to say it.
Sorry.
I’m sorry, John, I truly am.
I understand that I can’t ask you to come when the baby will be born, and I understand that maybe it’s too early for us to talk to each other by the phone, to hear each other’s voice. But I hope that we can write to each other from now on, till the time for us to meet again will come.
Lawrence