The sun beats down, bright and cold on this Tuesday. The harsh late-Autumn light assaults my eyes. I squeeze them shut, and a pair of tears mark twin trails down my cheeks.
For a moment I can pretend the sting of the morning sun is the only cause of my involuntary tears…But only for a moment.
The real truth, Charlie, is that I have cried each and every day since the last time I heard from you. I miss you terribly.
I’ll see something dumb and funny on the internet, and my first impulse is to send it to you. But then I remember you’ve blocked me.
I’ll see someone on the sidewalk who looks like you, and I’ll want to wave and call out to see if it’s you. But then I remember you hate me.
I’ll feel the tug in my heart that pulls me back down the block to your apartment; the unquenchable need to beg you to come back into my life, in any way that makes you happy. But then I remember you’re better off without me.
Something a little weird? Yesterday, on campus, I saw a pair of p****** discarded by the sidewalk and I’m *still* wondering if they were yours. Plain, black, cotton – small enough to be yours. Even if they weren’t, they reminded me of you. Like I said, a little weird, but I think you get my point: I miss you to the point of distraction.
It’s so hard to concentrate when every train of thought winds its way back to you.
Oh, Charlie. I fucked up so badly. I’m so sorry that I hurt you with my cowardice and my inability to commit fully. I s***, I know. I’m a monster, a failure, and, yes, a real a******. I want so badly to rewind time. To go back to this summer when we first started to know each other. The snail-shell of yours I found…Recommending strange music for each other…Your insanely libidinous messages…
But I can’t. By sheer force of will, I feel like I should be able to go back. But I can’t.
I’m stuck here, now. It’s late Autumn, and the sunlight hurts my eyes. Unbidden, images of you with someone else – holding hands, whispering your love, just being *with* them – pop into my head, and my jealousy burns my soul to ash.
Charlie Tom. Mr. Tanuki. Ugly Meat. Athens is better for your art and your baking. My life was better for having you in it.
Every day, I will come to this stupid website and spill my guts in the vain hope that one day you’ll see these words and decide that you can forgive me. I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so, so, so sorry. I miss you so much. To be blunt, life s**** without you.
If you can forgive me, reach out via email or text or IG.
You know how to find me.
You know who this is.
