The faint melody of an old swing song from the last century could be heard, along with the frequent clink of silverware and cheap china. It was almost two in the morning and there was almost nobody in Ruby's 24h cafe, aside from a muscular trucker, a chubby, dark-skinned waitress with a friendly face and a tired-looking man with sideburns, whose mind seemed far away. He didn't even hear the noises around him, he was caught in the twists of his own head.
His skin was pale, almost greyish, his chocolate brow eyes were weary and bloodshot, underlined by deep purple rings and his posture caused him to look even shorter than he actually was. It was a pathetic sight and the waitress, a woman with short and rather messy black hair, presumably in her mid-twenties, seemed to share that opinion. She smiled at him sympathetically as she placed the third cup of coffee in front of him, making Tim feel even worse.
He didn't want anyone's pity. He didn't even want his own pity, yet there wasn't much to do other than sitting in a cafe near the highway, emptying coffee cup after coffee cup and feeling sorry for himself.
The coffee wasn't good, but at least it was drinkable and contained enough caffeine to keep him awake. He hadn't slept in days, but it was better than dreaming of Jay, his dead, lifeless eyes, the blood seeping from the wound then bullet had left in his flesh. Tim might have avenged him, but a small part of him almost regretted it.
Hadn't he become as much of a filthy cockroach as Alex? He would never be able to wipe that blood off of his hands. Blood of the man he almost saw as some kind of friend at some point in his life. He had killed him. Timothy Wright had become a murderer.
But Alex had killed Brian and Jay, the only two people in the whole world Tim had ever really grown attached to. And he would have come after him next.
When thinking about the past few days, everything was a dull, greyish blur. From the day he had found out Jay was dead to now, where he was sitting around drinking far too expensive coffee, all Tim could remember was a huge, dark hole in his chest right where his heart was supposed to be. He had completely lost his sense of time. Was it always like that when someone died? He would never find out because he would never let anyone close to him again.
What if Jay was still alive? What would Tim tell him? There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them. He would never get the chance to look Jay in the eye and say them out loud.
It was just then that he remembered one sentence he had heard from his therapist more than one time. "Write it down."
You feel upset about something?
Write it down.
You're seeing things again?
Write it down.
You're lonely?
Write it down.
You feel the urge to run away again?
Write it down.
You don't know what you're feeling and everything is a blur?
Write it down.
Tim had never done as he was told. He had always refused. Maybe today was the day he'd finally take that advise.
His knees felt wobbly when he made his way to the counter, trying to get the waitress's attention. Her name was Judith, according to to the name badge that was attached to her far too revealing and far too tight uniform. God, why would an employer want to let his employees run around in clothes like that? One wrong move and Tom could probably see her navel.
"Could I have a piece of paper and a pen, please?" he asked, almost jumping at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't payed attention to it up until now, but it sounded hoarse and croaky.
"Of course. One second!" Judith rummaged in one of the drawers under the counter and handed a small notepad and a pen to him. "Here you go. You can keep that stuff, not like anyone would miss it here."
Tim thanked her quickly and sat down on the window again, nipping on his coffee before he began to write.
Things I wish I could have told you
1. Your hat looks hideous. But it suits you.
2. You talk in your sleep. I caught you philosophize about trees at some point.
3. I'm endlessly sorry for punching you back then. You only wanted to help.
4. Curiosity kills the cat. Please take care of yourself.
5. I was so worried about you after we came back from Alex's old house. I wouldn't have been able to stand the thought of you loosing your mind and the beautiful shine in your eyes.
6. I always called you jaybird in my mind.
Tim paused. Could he really bring this down onto the paper? Yes. He had to or he would never find peace. There was no other way. He took a deep breath and with tears in his eyes wrote down:
7. I love you.
