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I’m not drinking.
Usually, with those tears I made you cry, I’d throw shots back until empty glasses fill the bar in front of me.
And when you said you wish we never happened?
Fuck, that hurt.
Because all that I am is us.
You’ve been my every thought and next breath, Cade, for so long.
So, yeah, the old me wouldn’t need to hear more. He’d be numbing that spit on my grave halfway through a bottle with his favorite buddy Johnny Walker by now.
But nope. I’ve changed.
Or at least, I’m trying to.
It ain’t easy, though. Not when I see you in pain. Even your swollen ankle melts my heart.
But touching you again.
God, I was losing my mind.
I know you saw my hands shaking while I took off your boot. The only thing that stopped them was the touch of your soft skin.
Damn, I just wanted to keep touching up your legs, feeling inside you, for every part of you I’ve missed.
I know we’re still in pain; we’re still in love… and we felt it.
Then Angie made that comment—the one about ice cream.
Fuck, I saw it on your face, and I might as well have slapped it because I know that hurt you.
I’m sorry.
It’s not what you think. There’s so much you don’t know. About Angie. About that night. About the shit that’s been my life since.
One day, I want the courage to tell you that one of the things I’ve lived for, through the hell of it all…
It’s for that memory of us.
Of our first kiss over an ice cream cone.
I cherish it. I’ve shared it with no one but you, Cade, I swear.
Remember us before we kissed?
We’d hold hands on the bus. You’d fall asleep with me on the sofa watching TV. We couldn’t stop holding each other. You were like water, and I needed every drop of you.
It wasn’t sexual at first.
I mean, it was with me after a while.
I can’t tell you how many times I jerked off thinking about you from the age of thirteen. But I didn’t know if you liked me that way. We were best friends.
Then you went away one summer with your dad when we were sixteen. He took you on long trips after your parents divorced, and my heart hurt with you gone.
But you’d send me postcards with five things you liked about me on each. I still have them.
