Standing there, with snow up to my ankles, I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to rip the letter to pieces, frightened by the crippling pain that would inevitably accompany his words. But that was such a small part of the hurricane of emotions I was feeling that I hastily shoved it away. Of course I would read it. I had to. I felt compelled to, never mind the emotional wreckage it could create. It wasn't really even an option. I most definitely would read it. Just not right now.
I folded up the letter and put it in my jean pocket and went about the rest of my day, even as the envelope weighed me down like a stone around my neck.
I spent the rest of the morning channel surfing, enjoying the snow day. Rachel and Daniel trekked over in the afternoon and Rachel insisted on giving me a hair cut. Normally I wouldn't let scissors anywhere near me, but with Clay's words deep in my pocket, I felt a sudden overwhelming need for change. Daniel flopped down on my bed and leafed through a magazine as Rachel snipped and layered and snipped some more. “I can't believe you read this junk.” Daniel snorted. Rachel held my head straight as I tried to see the article he was reading on how to get a boy to notice you. “If you don't want to have to buzz your head later, hold still.” I immediately sat up straight.
When Rachel was finished she held up a mirror. “So, whatcha think?” She asked. I turned my head side to side and grinned. She had done an awesome job. My normally long brown hair had been chopped off above my shoulders. Rachel had given me chunky layers around my face and it looked amazingly sleek and stylish. I fluffed it. “You have a gift, my friend.” I complimented, very pleased with the end result. Daniel looked up and gave me a low whistle. “You look hot, Mags.” Rachel and I grinned.
“So Maggie...” Daniel began. I was instantly suspicious, because he never used my full name. I looked at him archly. “Yes.” I prompted. “I was talking to Jake Fitzpatrick the other day and he was asking about you.” I looked away from my best friend. I knew he was trying to be helpful, wanting me to move on with my life. Attempting to re-acclimate me to the life I had led before Clay had appeared in it. But Jake Fitzpatrick, actually any guy, didn't have a chance as long as Clay still held my heart.
“Don't think so, Danny.” I said lightly, trying to hide the misery the thought of dating other guys created. “Jake's hot. I mean, what would it hurt to go out on a date with him? We could all go together if that would make it easier. It's not as though you're cheating. I mean...you know, I don't think Clay's...ummm...well...you know.” Rachel didn't finish her thought, letting her sentence trail off into what became an awkward silence.
Her well-intentioned encouragement made me snap and I flushed with anger. “Well, I can't do that okay. I love Clay and it wouldn't be right. So just drop it please.” I told them shortly. I didn't miss the look that passed between the two. And the subject was dropped.
Daniel and Rachel didn't stay much longer and sadly, I was relieved when they left. Trying to put on my happy face was proving difficult today. Not when I was just waiting to read Clay's letter.
Finally, after dinner, I excused myself and went to my room. My parents didn't question it, as this had become my normal routine. I closed the door behind me and sat on my bed. I slowly pulled out the crumpled letter from my pocket and held it, feeling its warmth from being tucked against me all day.
I inspected the envelope and saw that there was no return address. That seemed to speak pretty loudly that whatever Clayton Reed had to say to me required no response. I couldn't help but feel equal parts angry and hurt by that.
Tearing open the envelope, I carefully unfolded the paper. My name jumped out at me. I noticed the indentations where Clay had pressed his pen down hard. I could almost feel his anxiety. His fear. His grief. Undoubtedly because that was exactly how I was feeling. I closed my eyes, bracing myself and gearing up my nerve. Then I began to read. His love for me immediately lept up from the page. I was almost crippled with the intense relief. I realized then how scared I had been that he would stop loving me. That he would go on and live his life and forget all about me. But I guess I should have given him more credit than that.
Maggie,
I'm not sure I should be writing this. I feel like it's incredibly selfish of me to need to write these words and to need you to read them – to need you to know they are true. As if I am more entitled to these feelings than you are. But I'm not. Your thoughts, the way you feel, every single thing about you, means everything to me.
I guess that's why I'm writing. There isn't a second of every day that passes that I don't think about you. You are everywhere. I can still smell your hair, hear you cursing me when I drive too fast, and feel your breath as I fall asleep.
It hurts to remember you. But it scares me to try and forget. I remember you telling me that my love for you shouldn't hurt, that it should be something wonderful. And it is. It is the most wonderful thing I've ever had. But the truth is, it does hurt. My love for you destroyed everything around us and almost destroyed you, and I hate myself for that.
You deserve so much more than me. You always have. I hope you do find what you deserve one day. Someone who can love you selflessly and unconditionally without baggage and strings. Someone who doesn't let you leave your family behind. Someone you don't have to follow into hell.
I am a selfish person, Mags. Because I still love you and I know that I will until I die. And even as I tell you to move on with your life and live it - to find someone else, I pray you don't. Because I can't handle the thought of anyone else holding you, anyone else touching you, anyone else experiencing your love the way I did.
I don't know exactly what I'm trying to tell you here. I can see the frown on your face as you're reading this and hear you telling me to spit it out and get on with it. (I smiled through my tear-filled eyes at that comment. Clay knew me too well).
I suppose what I'm really trying to say is thank you. Thank you for giving me the most beautiful and amazing months of my life. Thank you for loving me in spite of me. Thank you for giving me hope and light, even if it was only for a little while. And I want to tell you again, I'm sorry. I should have been stronger and let you lean on me, instead of forcing you to shoulder the burden for both of us.
I realize my love for you crippled both of us.
But your love saved me.
Which is why this has to be goodbye. I can't stomach the thought of you waiting for me, for a person that I may never be. I'm trying to get better. But it's a hard and bitter road and I don't know when, or even if, I will ever be completely okay.