Work Text:
To: 𝓦illiam 𝓑yers
14 — 02 — 1991
Will… wow. It’s been a long time. I know it’s strange to write to you like this, but I haven’t seen you since I started college. A year and two months ago.
I know what you’re thinking. I’m really an idiot who chose the “easiest and most useless” major and still struggled to get into college.
One of the assignments in my class, and the reason for these words, is to write a letter we’ll never send to celebrate Valentine’s Day, which is a little cruel, if you ask me. Most people choose to lie in activities like this. It’s easy. Who in their right mind actually opens up in a space like this? We’re going to read them out loud. Everyone will be watching, judging, laughing. Right now, as I’m writing, I can already picture their faces.
And still, none of that matters. It was my selfishness and my fear of judgment that ruined everything. So I guess there’s no point in pretending anymore.
There are so many things I wish I had told you. But the truth is, I’m scared. Scared, angry, disgusted, resentful… of everything. All this time, in ways you probably never meant to, you hurt me in so many ways. And even so, I’ve seen every side of you, every moment, every emotion of your life.
I’ve known you forever. Since the first time we met in our smallest, most awkward childhood. Since you didn’t talk like the other kids. Since you kept yourself apart. Since we played together and dreamed every day.
Your laughter. Your tears. Your nervous laugh. Your courage. Your strength.
Since you disappeared in a second. Since you were thousands of miles away from me. Since you came back to live by my side. Since you pulled away. Since you got angry. Since you supported me. Since you forgave me.
You’ve always been there. From being a powerful sorcerer… to feeling humiliated and crushed by the world.
And all that time, I was there too. Just watching. Just watching you and doing nothing. You’ve always been there for me. But I don’t know if I was ever truly there for you.
We’ve known each other for more than fifteen years. And as life grew more complicated, so did my relationship with you. I miss when everything was easy. I miss when everything was simple. I miss seeing you. I miss you.
One of a writer’s greatest virtues is pretending to have a life they don’t. Inventing things they’ve never lived through. You could say we’re excellent liars. Great storytellers with grand words.
But no one can tell you anything when you lie well.
I’m a perfect liar, aren’t I?
I remember everything that happened with Jane. Her and you. You and her. You were both the center of my life, and I felt like I didn’t exist unless I was with you.
You’re my whole life, Will. You both were my whole life. I felt like I was a burden in yours, an idiot trying to get your attention.
Tell me, Will… am I really selfish?
For some reason, I just wanted to be normal. I wanted my head to be quiet. I wanted silence. I wanted to be like the other guys. And it frustrated me that you weren’t either. It frustrated me that you weren’t like them.
It made me doubt. It made me feel wrong.
To me, you represented something childish. Everything I wanted to leave behind. Everything I was trying to escape from.
While Jane… she represented something else. The fantasy. I felt like the protagonist. The guy who gets the girl at the end. The one who lives through great adventures. Being a normal, grown guy. Having a girlfriend. Living. I wanted to live.
With her, I saw a future. A life.
And I filled myself with insecurities. I stopped wanting to be who I was.
She’s really pretty, isn’t she? She’s very pretty. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
And that’s why I regret it so much.
I can’t stop thinking about everything. About how much I made her suffer. About what I never told her. About everything I dragged her into without being able to step back afterward.
I can’t take it back. I was scared. Scared of what could happen. Scared of what people would think. Scared of what you would think.
And then I realized something.
If she said goodbye to me… it was because I was the only person who couldn’t convince her to stay.
With you, it was different.
It was… I don’t know. I didn’t know how to understand what I was feeling. So it was easier to pull away. It was easier to pretend.
At the end of the day, that didn’t mean anything, right? That’s what best friends do. They stick together. They support each other. They trust each other. They fight and make up.
I wanted us to stay there. On that thin line. Inside that safe limit.
Because with you, I couldn’t see a future. I didn’t know how to imagine one, Will. There was no future, no “us” that I could picture.
You were brave. Truly brave.
In that room full of people. When you confessed everything. When you begged us not to hate you. When you tried to remind us who you were, everything we had lived through together, so we wouldn’t reject you. It felt like a new possibility opened for me. Like a door had been there the whole time. And I just refused to see it.
After that, I couldn’t even touch you. But I couldn’t stop looking at you. I was about to say it. I was about to answer you. But why is it so complicated?
Even at the end of the world… it was just one sentence. One damn sentence I can’t say to you. And I can’t say it to Jane either.
I can’t say it. I don’t understand. I can’t.
Or maybe I really am just completely selfish.
I’ve realized something. You always tried to stand by me in the way I needed. And now I ask myself… what does it matter?
I don’t want to ruin your life. I don’t want to ruin it with a confession that leads nowhere. You look really happy with him. You look good together.
You moved on. Everyone did.
But I didn’t. I didn’t get stuck in what we were, or what we could have been. I got stuck on you. I can’t stop seeing you. I can’t stop seeing Jane. Part of me still wants her to show up one day and save me again.
But she never really felt that way.
I’m not the only liar, and I don’t blame you. She didn’t feel that way. She didn’t need me. It was you, Will. That’s why the painting…
It was from you, wasn’t it? I can’t stop thinking about it. It was something that came from you. I can’t stop thinking about how you really… how I really mattered to you.
You chose to help me fix my life, even if it hurt you. Because you just wanted to see me happy, Will. You just wanted to see me happy. And I wasn’t. I just couldn’t understand it back then. Because I wanted to be happy with you.
So this is how it is.
Because of your big heart, because of everything you’ve lived through, because of everything you’ve achieved… I’m going to stay quiet.
I’m going to let you live. You deserve peace. You deserve a life that isn’t shaped by my fear. Because I’m too much of a coward for this. Too selfish for this.
So I’ll endure it. I’ll endure the looks, the whispers, whatever they say. It doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe this is the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
Because I love you.
This is the last love letter I write to you. Or the first, if you want.