Eric,

Listening to songs I adored in the past doesn't give me the same feeling like they used to.

After you left my life has been nothing but a repetitive humdrum schedule.

I even forgot the last time I was sober.

The taste of alcohol leaves bittersweet memories of the good times we shared. They're all I have left and I want to cherish them for as long as I can.

I miss the sound of your voice. The taste of your lips. The way you brushed your hair out of your face. And your eyes. They were the perfect shade of honey brown. But they always portrayed sadness and deep thought. It was mesmerizing.

I truly loved you. Everything about you. But you didn't love me.

You left about a year and a half into our relationship, disappearing behind the dream of becoming famous. You stopped talking to me and everyone else from our quiet hometown. One of them heard you died from a drug overdose. But who knows. Sometimes I think my fate will be the same.

But if you are alive, and not in some gutter fighting off the flu with a bottle of vodka in your left hand, I hope you find this not. And I hope you'll eventually come back, because I know that everyone flocks back to their hometown. Even I.

-Kyle

Kyle,

I found your letter. But the paper is tattered and stained from years of abused travel around the United States.

I'm surprised it's still intact. I wound up reading it multiple times. Of course it reminded me of all our good times. I haven't thought about those in a while. But it's always nice to reminisce.

I left for a reason. I don't plan on coming back. I'm not welcomed in South Park and you know it. So it's best if I stay put in New York. Ha, I don't even know how I got here.

I also want to tell you that I don't crave visitors. I like being alone.

You claim that someone told you I overdosed. Well, I almost have. But I'm still breathing and walking. That experience did teach me a lesson though. And I don't plan on returning to those days where I spent all of my money on booze, cigarettes, and cocaine. It fucked me up beyond repair… mentally. The wires in my brain are getting worn down and I can hear the way they're creaking. I can tell they're falling apart.

And that is why I don't wish to see you again. It would only hurt you if you saw me; a former hollow husk of my past self. When everything was okay. But maybe I could see you one last time. My heart demands it.

I've always loved you. Just not anymore. Sober up and move on. For me.

-Eric

Eric,

I'm surprised you found my letter. Honestly I only wrote it to vent. But I decided to sent it somewhere else so I wouldn't have to look at it.

I'm glad you didn't die and you're doing fine now. Sometimes I would think about that and start to stress out. Mostly because I still care about you.

I would love to see you one last time. It's a good chance to finally clear things up. I crave closure between us. I have been since you left without a warning.

This letter is short and I apologize. But there are things I want to say in person rather than on a piece of paper. I'll be able to come up to New York in November. Even though that's three months away, it'll give me time to save up extra money. Did I mention I'm an article writer in the state music magazine? I'm pretty proud of what I do.

Write back as soon as you can to work out proper dates. I would give you my cell phone number, but I want to wait to hear or text you.

See you in November.

-Kyle

I apologize for the short, boring chapter. But think of it as a dumb introduction. If it doesn't make sense or doesn't describe the story properly just say something so i can fix it. I crave criticism so i can become a better writer! The next chapter is coming pretty soon since I'm almost done writing it. There will be a little action to look forward to instead of having another boring chapter. c;