A/N: Let me begin by saying that, yes, I am a horrible person for discontinuing Counting Stars. And the Supernova Trilogy. But, I couldn't dredge up an ounce of inspiration for that story. So much happened in my life that I can't begin to speak of because, A: it's personal as fuck. And B: it's a long fucking story. However, I do hope to finish this, whatever it may come to be. I'm already working on several more chapters and hope to try to post new chapters once a week, as life allows.

This story is just as personally relevant to me as Counting Stars was, for different reasons. Comments and kind criticism are encouraged.

Disclaimer! I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS. They belong to the gorgeous, genius Annie Proulx. And the movie people. (I think they belong a bit to Heath Ledger and Jake Gylenhaal too, but, not my decision.) To 'The Man', please don't strike me down for having fun.

To address something that came to my attention with Counting Stars...this is my story, despite the fact that I don't own these characters or a good part of the basis of this story and it's background. Do not, under any circumstances, post this on other sites, whether for money or for fun, without my permission. I've poured my heart and soul into these words, and I don't appreciate them being appropriated for another person's gain. I was told by a friend that Counting Stars had been posted on another website that I'd never even heard of. Not cool. Please, please don't take my work. I love it. It's my baby. And it's my hard work. Thank you.

Enjoy!

Ennis had loved Jack for half of his life. But then…it was over. Well, they weren't meeting up no more. They weren't lovin' each other once or twice a year no more. He hadn't seen Jack in years. It was for the best, he was sure…but he wasn't gonna fret over it. He couldn't, or he'd never climb outta that bottle sitting on his shelf. So, he worked, he saw Junior and Jenny every now and then when they could afford a little time in their busy lives for him. It was enough.

Work had been particularly hard that day, long and tough, and his boss wasn't warming up to that tall blond cowboy with time. Not that he'd thought the man might. He was all fire and brimstone, and looked on his weather-hardened ranch hand like one might look on shit on their shoes. So, he wasn't particularly in the right frame of mind to smile when he saw that package…from Childress, Texas.

Jack Fuckin' Twist. God damn that man.

He went inside, the slim package tucked under his arm, dropped it on the table, and went to wash the day's work off his calloused hands. The hell was Jack sending him now? The hell was he doin' intruding on his quiet life now that Ennis had finally convinced himself he didn't need the man no more? Fuckin' Twist.

Muttering swear words that woulda made his daddy blush under his breath, he tore the package open and blinked. The….The fuck?

"Love Letters for the Man I Always Loved" By Jack Twist.

Huh?

He flipped open the pretty, worn, leather-bound journal and read the first of many yellowed, stained, ripped here and there, pages.

"Dear Ennis, If you're reading this, there's two possibilities. Either I am dead and we lived together the life I had hoped…or we finally gave up. I started this journal back on Brokeback Mountain, herding sheep and…learnin' each other in a special way. Those days, you burrowed deep inside me in more ways than one, Ennis. You broke into my soul, my heart. You've filled my mind with dreams and want. And, since you're such a dipshit, I wasn't able to tell you all these words to your face. But I wanted to tell you…someday, some way. And this was the only way I could find where you'd let me say my peace. So, here we go.

Love, Jack Twist."

Ennis had a beer, his stained old recliner, the TV on low, and the elephant in the room sitting heavily on his lap. A god damn journal. That blue-eyed man of his and his words. Well, he wasn't his man no more, and Ennis wasn't sure he ever had been. But, those thoughts were just him not wanting to crack open that book again. Every time he looked at it, his stupid, patched up heart started beating too fast again.

Fuck. He was all wrought up over that dumbass all over again. No lie, god damn Jack Twist. If he ever saw that beautiful bastard again, he was gonna wring his skinny neck. His neck that Ennis had lined with his mark more than once.

He shook his head and took a swig of his Bud again. Time to face the music, Jack had a right to his say after all this time.

"August 1963.

Me and Ennis have actually been getting on pretty good. He talks more, instead of just grunting at me whenever I ask a question. Although, I gotta say, I was starting to interpret those grunts pretty well. Now that I know the man has some words in him, I've been trying to get him to talk every now and then. Sometimes he even sings. For such a quiet fucker, he's got a real nice voice. He'll sing hymns and songs he heard his momma sing, or picked up over the years. A lot of them are old campfire songs you'd hear any old cowboy sing in the quiet of the night. But, I'm beginning to think he's not just any old cowboy…

I guess it ain't no surprise that I've been lookin' on him more than I should. He's a nice tall drink of water, ya know? I knew that the second I saw him standing outside Aguirre's office. Blond and skinny, with the softest brown eyes I ever seen. Not that he shows them off too often. He's as shy with them pretty eyes as he is with his words.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I…I think he's been lookin' on me differently too. I keep catching him watching me, but maybe he just thinks I'm funny lookin'. Or maybe that's just his damn negativity rubbing off on me. Mmm, rubbing off…"

Ennis couldn't help the snort of near laughter at that. Jack's mind was a damn insane asylum. But…he remembered those early days, that long-but-too-damn-short summer he spent with that crazy boy in the cold, beautiful mountains. They'd both done a lot of staring, a lot of furtive glances stolen as swiftly as they could be, but just looks had never quenched that curiosity in their young, hot blood. Ennis had nearly worn his dick off that summer. Him and his hand had never been so well-acquainted as they were that first month.

He'd never imagined how hard it must've been for Jack, waiting on him to get a fuckin' clue. Jack, who knew who he was, and accepted it. Waiting on his stupid ass to get the hint of what them blue eyes were trying to get across. He couldn't help but smile, just slightly, at the memory of the fire dancing in Jack's blue eyes, a smile lighting up that young, mischievous face, hair askew as he ran his hand through it. The flash of white teeth when he grumbled something that made Jack laugh. The sound of his voice calling out a farewell as he got on his horse and went up to watch over the sheep. His stomach jumped, and his chest ached for what could've been…and for what had been, once upon a time.

It'd been almost twenty years since that summer…so why was Jack dredging all this up again? They'd quit each other, hadn't they? What the fuck did Jack want to do to him?

He dropped the journal to the floor with a dull thud, drained his beer, and dropped his head back against the back of his old chair, and stared at the water spot on his ceiling. Slowly, he shook his head and closed his eyes.

Jack Fuckin' Twist.