And, Simon, I think the part that feels shittiest is the fact that I’m actually really, really liking it. Which makes me feel like a terrible boyfriend. I don’t know if that even makes sense. I guess it just feels like if I’m happy here, I’m basically throwing up a giant middle finger at our relationship. I know that’s completely illogical, and I PROMISE it has nothing to do with anything you’ve ever said or done. It’s just my brain being glitchy, like it always is. I don’t think I’ve told you about that first year after we moved, but it was the same kind of thing. I was in this brand new school, in this brand new town, and every decent moment felt like a betrayal of my old life.
I just don’t want you to think I miss you any less, okay? Soccer’s a nice distraction, but you’re the love of my life.
Love,
Blue
FROM: HOURTOHOUR.NOTETONOTE@GMAIL.COM
TO: BLUEGREEN118@GMAIL.COM
DATE: OCT 8 AT 12:10 PM
SUBJECT: THE SOCCER KID I FELL IN LOVE WITH
So, I’ve been thinking about your email all morning. God. I don’t even know what to say. I’m just gutted, Bram. I’m so fucking sorry. The fact that you found something good, and I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I’m the worst boyfriend on earth. But let me be totally clear: I want you to be happy. And if that’s in New York or New Zealand or Antarctica or Jupiter, so be it. Bram, I love that you’re playing soccer. I love that you’re loving it. I love that you’re happy. I love you, okay? And that’s it. That’s the whole entire point.
So tell me everything. I want to know about your teammates, and whether you get to wear those cute little knee socks, and if you’ll get a trophy with an upside-down gold guy kicking a soccer ball. I want to know if it feels different than it did at Creekwood. Oh, and for the record, I DO know what intramurals are, thank you very much. Did you know I played intramural basketball for six months in middle school? WE EVEN WON A GAME (okay, technically the other team had to forfeit, but it was STILL A WIN).
And in other news, I’m home! Though getting here was a bit of a shitshow. I don’t know why I picked a flight that landed in the middle of Atlanta morning rush hour (okay, I do know why, it was cheap, but GOD. What a mess). Also, my dad took the morning off work to pick me up, and we were going to stop at the Varsity for frosted oranges. But then the Varsity wasn’t even open yet, because apparently Simon and Jack Spier are the only two dumbasses who want milkshakes at ass o’clock in the morning. But Nora’s still at school, of course. Maybe I’ll hide in her room with Bieber and spring up from the bed or something when she walks in there. Is that creepy, genius, or both?
Anyway, soccer kid, go be happy this week. Kick a ball around, hang with Ella, take the subway down to Brooklyn. Fall in love with New York. (And, for the love of god, go to the dining hall! You’re an athlete, go eat some real food!)
I love you more than anything, okay?
Love,
Simon
FROM: SIMONIRVINSPIER@GMAIL.COM
TO: LEAHONTHEOFFBEAT@GMAIL.COM
DATE: OCT 14 AT 4:55 PM
SUBJECT: BACK IN PHILLY!!
Hey! Just letting you know I made it (and sorry for all the frantic texts). Holy shit, that was way too close for comfort. I’m surprised they even let me board. I totally had to do the walk of plane shame, where everyone’s just blatantly hoping I won’t take the extra seat they apparently now feel is their birthright. But I’m here, and it’s weirdly nice to be back in my room again. It’s even good to see Kellan. He’s funny, he just asked me how my trip to Shady Creek was, like it’s a normal city people have heard of. Kind of sweet that he remembered that, I guess?
It was just so, so great to see you guys—wish I could have stayed the whole weekend. I’ve never really just wandered around Athens before, and I’m pretty jealous of you now, because it’s the coolest fucking city on earth. Like that record shop, with all the album art on the wall and all the vintage R.E.M. posters. Leah, I could lock myself inside that store and be happy for the rest of my life.
And thanks for letting me spiral about the Bram thing. I know it’s going to be fine. It’s already fine. I just feel bad I made him feel like he has to hate New York to prove he misses me. And I don’t want him to be sad just because I’m sad.
I mean, I don’t hate it here. It’s just that everything feels so muted without him. It’s so hard to explain it. It’s like, I’m happy sometimes, but there’s a ceiling. Without Bram, I’m never more than 75 percent okay. And, Leah, I’m so scared I’m not up for four years of this. Maybe I made the wrong choice. I do love this school. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen in real life. And I like my customs group. But I also don’t really feel close to any of them. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. I’m not fully present. I’ve got one foot in New York.
Sorry, I know that’s a lot. You don’t have to reply to any of that. I’m just being a mopehead (my new favorite Nora-ism—can you believe our girl was today
