EDEN - FOREVER/OVER (Please)
Hey, Ry.
This is kind of weird, I guess. I mean, you're kind of not real. You're not even really an idea. A fragment of a dream that I half remember.
I feel you, though. I suppose that's why I'm writing this in the first place. I can't shake you. For someone made up, you feel pretty real. If you feel like this to me, maybe I feel like something to you?
Do you remember the beach? I almost can't. Parts are grey and fuzzy, but we're there. I remember how you felt. There's this overhang. A rock? Or a balcony? We're under it and just buzzing with anxiety. Anticipation. We definitely weren't supposed to feel like that, huh? And then at the baseball game. Everytime I touched you. Like fire.
We weren't there, though, were we? Maybe I was? But if I was, so were you. You're part of me.
The part I remember the most was the restaurant. That's the point it all hinges on. I wrote that down, you know? I put it down. Of all of it, that's the most concrete. Your face, heart shaped heart melting. Blue, blue eyes. Your smile. Sad and frustrated and angry and determined and knowing. You knew. You know how I felt. How you felt. How your mom felt. You know I'd take you home again. Maybe we'd stop the car around the block. I'd pull over without us talking about it. We'd both just know.
Would you have kissed me? I don't know. I don't think I would have kissed you. Not that I didn't want to. I don't think I'd ever wanted anything more. Just… those moments of precipitation. Precipice. Cliff walking. Did we walk on cliffs? I felt like we did. I would have traded the kiss for a thousand car rides, but it would have been a trade that killed me. I wanted both. I wanted… you. You. You. Rlyie. Rylynn. My Rylie Kawahara.
Did your mother ever like me? Or was it a white guy thing? I was stable? Hah. If she'd only actually known me. Not like you did. Did that make it more interesting? Did you entertain her machinations knowing what I was really like? I bet you got a little thrill out of that.
She doesn't know about you. Never will. Probably. Would it matter if she did? Is it selfish of me? I want you to stay… you. That can only happen in my head. A prison of bone. I hate myself for doing it, but what choice to I have? Like I said, you're not real. You don't exist. So much harder. So so so.
What could we have had, my beautiful girl? Nothing. Nothing but tension and sadness and magic and sleepless nights. Your mother's scorn and my… disappointment. My failure. It'd be worth it, though. To touch your arm one more time. I remember that now. How the little hairs felt when you had goosebumps. The beach, the kitchen, the car.
The more I write, the more I remember. Right more. Remember to write, huh? It's Just me. Love you.