A/N: So Summer's pissed at Seth for leaving and she's gonna write him some letters to let him know. I don't really know where I got the overall idea for this story but I have to give credit to super trooper's We Looked Like Giants because that's where the whole laying down in the back of car thing came from. I hope you don't mind, super trooper! By the way, definitely, definitely read that story because it's awesome.
Dear Cohen,
Time flies doesn't it, when you're out at sea. Is that how the saying goes? Well, last time I checked, it was "having fun". I don't know how much fun you're having but I hope it's less than we are here. I really hope you're miserable wherever the hell you are. Did you make it to Tahiti after all? I hope you get lost.
Do you know that's it's been three weeks already? Knowing you, you probably forgot to pack a watch or a calendar, for that matter. Did you even pack at all? Or were you so anxious to get away from us that you didn't bother to bring the necessities? Do you know that your mother has been crying for three weeks? Do you know that Ryan blames himself?
Of course you don't. How could you know any of that?
When you're sailing on that dumb boat, do you ever think of me? I think of you a lot these days. I wish I wouldn't. I wish that your face would disappear from my mind forever but then again, I don't. I wanna scream and yell and kick the shit out of you but I can't. Because you're on that stupid boat. I hope you spend restless nights thinking about everything you left behind. You threw it all away, Cohen. Do you have any idea how you hurt me?
Of course you do. And it made you sad, right?
You feel bad that you hurt me because you "love" me. If you were here, you would've asked what was up with the finger quotes. In this case, they're emphasizing that the love in question is not real. Because if you really loved me, you wouldn't have left. But it still makes you sad, right?
So I'll take comfort in your own pitiful misery.
Oh yeah, I almost forget to tell you that you're tearing your family apart.
It's true. While you're out on that stupid boat, (you know, the one you named after me) they're here waiting for you. Your mother has remodeled the house while waiting for your ass to come home. I mean, what the hell else is she supposed to do?
And your dad? Every day your father stays at the office a little later. Last night your mom wasn't even awake when he came home. I know because she told me. Yes, I was discussing how big of a jerk you were with your mother. And she told me how upset she was, how upset Ryan was.
He cried. Did you know that? Kirsten held him and he cried. Your mother cried with him. And she cried by herself, too. For three fucking weeks. I bet if I went over to your house, she'd still be crying. She should disown you. You know, for what you've done. I know I would.
You're lucky you're not here. Knowing you, you'd probably cry, too.
Do you remember when I made you watch Beaches and you cried? You cried so hard it would have been funny if I weren't the one handing you tissue after tissue. But yeah, if you were here, you'd cry harder then that. Except if you were here, your mother wouldn't be crying as much because Ryan has the decency to come home and visit.
Is that what you're doing on your boat? Are you crying? I hope you are.
I wish you felt even half as bad as I do. It's too bad that's impossible. I mean, I'm the one watching your family as they drown in their own tears. The tears they're crying for you.
Maybe if we get lucky, you'll drown in your tears that you're crying on your stupid boat.
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Dear Cohen,
How's your "vacation"? Tell me, is it making everything better?
No, it's not.
Did you think that if you left, Theresa wouldn't be pregnant anymore and Ryan would come home? Did you think it would make everything okay? How stupid can you be?
Actually, I don't think you're that stupid. You've always been really smart. I thought maybe that some of your smartness might rub off on me, ya know? But I guess it didn't since I was stupid enough to get involved with you. But this is what I get for falling for you, right?
Anyway, you acted stupidly. And selfishly. Only child syndrome, right?
You're not an only child anymore, though. You have Ryan now. You're supposed to be his brother, remember? Well, you kinda blew that one. Did you think of how you were going to hurt him when you left?
Obviously not.
But he left. So it makes it okay for you to leave, right? That because he's going back to Chino to take responsibility for his actions, you can just run away to cry alone on your boat. That's what your selfish little mind was thinking, wasn't it?
Is it still too late to tell you that you're an asshole?
Sometimes when it's late and I'm alone in my room, I wonder why I'm waiting for you. Why am I waiting, Seth? Just because you told me I was beautiful? Because you were too afraid to feel me up the first time we made out? Because you "loved" me?
I thought you were different.
But you're just like them. Do you know that? You're just like every other stupid jock I ever dated. Yes, I said that you were exactly like all the people you try so hard not to be. The truth is Seth, you're worse then them. You're more conceited and stuck-up than any of them. And the sad part is, you don't even know it. But that's a story for another day.
They left me, Cohen. You know that because we talked about it.
It's okay, though. They didn't have the courtesy to leave me a note.
Ha. A fucking note. You think that makes it okay? You think that just because your hand was shaking when you wrote it, that that makes it okay?
It doesn't.
My mother's note had teardrops on it to make it okay. It wasn't okay though and you knew that. I told you that.
How do you do it? How do you make me tell you stuff like that? When we're lying in the back of your car, with my head on your chest so I can hear your heart beating and you're looking at me; I can't see you but I can feel your eyes, and your fingers are in my hair, that's when you do it. And I hate it and I wish you wouldn't because I don't want you to know all that.
But you do.
Now, I know you want me to ask why I wasn't enough to make you stay in Newport. That way you can launch into this big explanation of how I was the only good thing you had and that it was me who brought you home (if you ever come home). I'm not going to though. I know I wasn't enough. I never was.
You don't even have to pretend, either.
Go ahead, Cohen. Tell me I wasn't nice enough. Tell me I wasn't smart enough. God knows I'm not. Tell me that I wasn't good enough for you.
I knew that all along. You did, too, didn't you, Seth?
You always knew.
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Dear Cohen,
I'm sick of waiting for your stupid ass to get back.
Why can't I just forget? Why does your face haunt my dreams at night and occupy every corner of my mind during the day?
By the way, if that sounded the least bit poetic, it was an accident.
I want you to know this. You are a stupid, selfish, prick. You thought of no one but yourself when you packed your bags and set sail for Tahiti or wherever the hell you went. But Ryan left too, so that makes it okay, remember?
Don't worry though; I have other things to tell you that don't directly include me calling you a jackass. Although I could fill up a whole letter with just that.
By the way, I'm gonna kick your ass when you get home. Not just for me though, for what you did to your mother.
Like I said before, I'm sick of waiting. I've spent my whole life waiting. I'm done. I'm not waiting for you anymore, Cohen.
So you can stay out there on your stupid boat until next Christmas, or Chrismukkah and I won't be waiting. You could name a million boats after me and recite a million poems and I still won't wait.
I'm letting go. I'm letting go of you. I've taken our memories and put them in a box. You can have them when you come back. If you ever do come back. Maybe I'll even cry on them to make it okay.
Yeah right.
I don't cry. You know that. I know you know that because I told you that. I didn't even cry when I found out Greg Lindic was cheating on me with Ashley Nichol in the eighth grade. So why am I crying, Seth? Tell me why the hell I'm crying.
I promised myself, after she left, that I would never cry again. You made me break that promise. I will always hate you for that.
You know, it's too bad you didn't stick around. If you had given me just a little longer, I could have loved you, too. But I guess you didn't want to wait for me.
I'm the one who's supposed to wait, right?
Goodbye, Cohen.
P.S. If you ever do come back and we lay in the back of your car with my head on your chest so I can hear your heart beating and you look at me like you do; so I can't see you but I can feel your eyes, and your fingers are in my hair, I just might tell you that I love you.