Melody (krazybaby128) wrote in flying_leap,

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Unopened Letter

Title: Unopened Letter
Author: Melody (krazybaby128)
Fandom: Everwood
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst/Romance
Summary: Love hurts. Sometimes, it hurts too much. Just ask him, he knows the feeling and what to do about it.
“To the Ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that ly
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky”
Attribution: John Milton (1608-1674), British poet
Comus; a Masque Presented at Ludlow Castle (l.976-979)

Unopened Letter

You’re perfect. Whoever said that nobody could be perfect obviously never met you. You’ve had your flaws in the past and you’ve dealt the most difficult of problems in your short life so far, but you’ve come out on top of it all; risen above the challenge. That makes you perfect. I can’t stand knowing that perfection is so close to me but that I will never ever be able to grasp it in my hands and call it my own. You are so close to me, but no matter how hard I try, you inch just a little further back, every time I come within reach of you. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to come to terms with it, but it seems that this is one magic trick the famous me could not pull.

You. It angers me and amazes me at the same time how you can be so oblivious to everything that I feel. How you can just smile at me with the intensity of my father’s lectures and make my knees turn to jell-o. How you can make me feel like a twelve year old girl with her first crush on the cute boy at school. How you make me shiver every time you accidentally touch my shoulder. And in the end, all it is…is just that. An accident. I’m sorry I feel this way, I really am, I know it’s wrong, my father says so. I just wish there was some place I could go where all these feelings weren’t so frowned upon. I just wish I could be there. Wherever that is.

“Hey.” You nod at me in the hallway as I pass. I can only glance back at you. We never were friends before this year and I doubt that it would’ve ever happened if it weren’t for the famous new kid in school. Actually, no. It wouldn’t have happened if Colin hadn’t died. And even though I miss him terribly, I’m kind of glad. I don’t mean to sound so…heartless, but it’s true. If he hadn’t died, I never would’ve even thought to hang-out with you and your dorky friend. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Your dorky friend and you. If that makes any grammatical sense. Would you look at that? Me? Correcting and worrying about grammar? But anyway, now that I think about it, maybe I’m not so glad I met you. If I never met you, then this wouldn’t be happening to me right now. I wouldn’t feel the way I feel about you and I wouldn’t want to have the sudden urge to kill myself, knowing how happy you truly are without me.

“So what do you guys want to do today?” Ephram asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

I shrug and wait for you to reply. You don’t say anything either and we turn to see if you’re still alive. You are. You’re just in a daze, staring at that girl that’s in your history class. I roll my eyes. She’s not that pretty. She never was. She got breast implants for fuck’s sake! But I remind myself that I stared at her for awhile too. But that was only to keep my cover.

“Hello?” Ephram waves a hand in front of your face and you snap out of it a few seconds later.

“What?” you ask in that oblivious manner of yours. The same one that makes me want to kill you and kiss you at the same time. No. Scratch that. I wouldn’t be able to kill you. I love you too much for that. Yes. I love you. Do you hear that? I. Love. You. I don’t know why or how, but I love you.

Of course, I haven’t said this out loud; I wouldn’t dare. Instead, I laugh and make some lame comment about that girl and you never having a chance together while you just push me in the way that you do and jump into Ephram’s car. You always jump into Ephram’s car. I’m always the one left to drive by myself, but that’s okay. Because I don’t think I could bear to be in the same car as you alone and not tell you all these things that are running through my head. Like the fact that, even though I look like I’m happy all the time, I’m dying. Slowly, you’re killing me and you don’t even know it. I don’t want you to know it otherwise you might finish the job off, physically.

“Hey, where do you want to go? Ephram’s got a date tonight so he changed his mind about hanging out.” I look up and find you standing at the door of my truck. I gulp before letting you in and shrugging some more. I can’t seem to find the words. It’s finally gotten me. That choking feeling that you always gave me has finally gotten me. Maybe it’ll kill me fast.

“Are you okay?” You’ve made your first stupid, yet funny, comment of the afternoon and I haven’t even smiled or made fun of you, thus giving you full reason to be extremely concerned.

I meet your eyes, your tantalizing eyes, and shake my head, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just kind of…nervous about a test I took this afternoon.” I said the first thing that came to my mind and thank goodness it was a good excuse. It was true—I had taken a test that afternoon, but at that point, I knew I did okay on it already.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve become Mr. Smarty pants this year,” you joke, “Besides, I saw your teacher on the way out here and asked how you did since I knew you’d be worried. He said you shouldn’t be.”

I don’t know why, but that makes me nervous. The fact that you cared enough about me to do that for me makes me nervous. I think.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” you observe, “What’s going on?”

I shrug and drive to the movie theater where I let you pick the movie because I can’t seem to think of one to see anyway. You see the girl from school and she smiles at me. I wave slightly and turn back to the movie. Not that I was paying attention in the first place anyway. You sigh and I shift my attention to you.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

“She’s so hot.” You blurt out. Oh. That’s it. You want to be with her. I try not to let my heartbreak show as I ask you what you’re thinking. I try not to sound like I’m crying when you tell me how much you want to get together with her. For once, I’m glad that the movie theater is dark and I can mask my tears. I’m glad that the movie we’re watching is sad too. That way, I have an excuse. When the movie is over, my tears are gone, though the pain of heartbreak has not faded. I want to smack you and tell you that there’s no one in this world, not even the girl with big boobs, that will love you more than I do. But I don’t and I won’t. You seem truly happy with getting this girl to be yours so I do the thing any friend would do.

“I’ll talk to her for you, get in a good word or three,” I tell you softly, hoping I have masked the pain well. It doesn’t matter. You’re too happy about this to even notice my tone of voice.

“You will? You will?”

I nod. And I do. I talk to her over the weekend when I ‘bump’ into her at the super-market while talking to Ephram’s sister. I tell her that you’re a great guy. You’d do anything for your friends and you’re probably a better boyfriend too. She totally buys into this and is interested in you as she overhears our conversation. She asks if you’ve got a girlfriend and I say no. I add in that it’s a shame too since you could give so many presents. If only you had someone to give it to. And as I say this, my heart is shattering all over again because it’s true. But more because I want to be that person that you buy gifts for.

You come up to my locker in school on Monday and give me the biggest hug I’ve ever received and that makes my day. You tell me that you asked her out and she’d said yes. You have a date with her on Friday night and that you’re totally psyched out for it. You tell me you owe me one big time. I laugh and tell you that you really do. How about loving me? But no. I know that would be wrong so I tell you that I’ll let you know when you can do something for me. I’m flying high because you hugged me and you actually meant it, but my bubble bursts every time I get to the part about you asking her out.

For the rest of the week, you can’t talk about anybody else but her. You can’t ask about anything except what you should wear, where you should bring her. It gets to the point where I just want to hurl. I want to fucking throw-up.

Today is Friday. My birthday. I’m dreading tomorrow. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or the day after that, or the day after that. Yesterday I got my science and math tests back. I failed both of them. Yesterday my dad yelled at me and told me that I wasn’t good at anything. That I would never get anywhere. That I should just give up now. He’s been subtlety telling me this for the past few months, though he has pretended to have faith in me. He doesn’t, though. I know. My sister absolutely hates me and wants absolutely nothing to do with me. She despises me to the point where Ephram has to go around, hanging out with me behind her back because even though he loves her, he still wants to be friends with me. But this morning, I told him it was okay. He wouldn’t need to sneak around behind her back anymore. Just leave it up to me, I said. And he believed me. He was happy. My sister wants me to die. My father wants me to die. You don’t even care. You’ll be on your little date when all this happens.

I’m not going to leave a stupid note or anything behind because I can’t stand the thought of putting you or anybody else through pain. Especially not you or Ephram because you two were the only two people that ever believed in me. But now, you’ve got someone. Ephram’s got someone. I’ve got no one. I think I’m just writing this for closure. I’m standing at the peak where Colin and I used to hang-out and just talk. After I write my name for the last time, I’m ripping this up and throwing it to the wind to let it fly. I’m watching the water below me. It’s so beautiful. I see the field where we used to play football together. I’ll miss those days. I see the sky where you and I have argued about what clouds look like. I’m trying really hard not to cry. I need help. I know I do. You can return the favor now. Really, you can. You can just show up here and tell me not to do it, that you’ll help me through it and I won’t do it. Really, I won’t.

No? I guess not. I just need to prove to my father that I’m not as dumb as I really was. I wrote a letter to him and the rest of my family because maybe they deserve to know why. Maybe they deserve to taste the tears I’ve tasted. You don’t. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have by doing this. So this is being ripped as soon as I can find the strength in me. I left this with the note for my father:

“To the Ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that ly
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky”

It’s by John Milton. He’s a British poet. He was anyway. I learned that in English last week. It struck me that…this is me. I know that there will be a funeral and people will attend, but I don’t think everyone should be so miserable. I was—am—miserable living. I thought I could be strong and forge my way through this, but I’m not and I can’t. I’m going to fly free now. I’m going to be somewhere where being gay isn’t so wrong. I’m going to go somewhere where I can love you and not hurt by doing so. And now I leave this world exactly eighteen years after I entered it, leaving my blood stained into Everwood forever. This is Bright Abbot’s exit. The only way out because for 18 years, I’ve been shaped into who I am today. And I don’t love me. I don’t even like me. In fact, I hate me. I’m sorry I could never be the guy you needed. I’m sorry I can’t be the one for you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to everyone, especially my family. And you. I’m sorry that I’m not perfect. Like you. Yes, world, Bright Abbot is not perfect.

I’m sorry, Wendell, I’m sorry that I love you.

Bright Abbott
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