Dear Castiel,

I love you.

I miss you, and I want to start again but I feel

I feel like

I am dying insi

I don't fucking know where to begin, but you

I can't recall ever writing a letter. I mean, maybe I have before. I don't even know who I'd have written to. But I don't think I could talk out loud to you without fucking everything up.

like I did before

and I never want you to see me

go through that with me ever again.

I can't bear the thought that you're hurting and I'm the one who made you be hurting. I am a fucking mess, Cas, and you

rebuilt

saved

loved me and there is absolutely nobo

are the world to me. I am struggling, Cas, with everything, the whole supernatural angels-and-demons-and-ghosts oh my, but I can handle that stuff. Monster A takes an iron knife, monster B gets a nice sip of holy water. But it's the other stuff, the stuff that isn't simple and mathematical and nice and neat and it's never neat and that's not the point but I just can't do emotions.

Worry. I worry that Sam will get killed. I worry that something will happen to you. I worry about being stabbed in my sleep by some son of a bitch who I've wronged, and there's fucking legions of them.

Fear. Fear is losing you or Sam permanently. But now that I think on it, I realize that if Sammy dies for me I'll see him in heaven, but if you are so stupid that you get yourself killed for me your soul is obliterated. And that is fear. I feel like I'm on an airplane, the panic and oh-my-fucking-god-i'm-dying-i-can't-breathe sets in whenever you are A.W.O.L. That stands for absent with out leave, by the way. I am afraid that your existence will end and it will be my fault. I'm afraid of hurting you so badly that you never want to see me again. I'm afraid of how my heart skips when I'm around you like one of my cassette tapes is wearing thin and doing strange things to the music. I am afraid of how I see you in everyone. I see blue eyes and think Cas. I compare that one guy's hair or some other girl's smile to you. I am afraid of what this could possibly mean.

I think about what you might be like to

I sort of want to kiss

I am afraid of letting myself kiss you

I am afraid that you'll tell me that I've been reading the signs wrong

I'm afraid of what it might mean to let myself

love

trust someone again.

But there's some other emotion which I can't name. It's tangled and confusing, and I just don't fucking know. You are my brother, Cas, my family, my best friend, and you complete me.

Not in a romanti

maybe in a ro

Not to sound cheesy or anthing, but you are my

partner

world

everything

universe

everything.

And I am fucking scared, Cas, scared because I need you. Scared because I only feel complete when you're around and I need you so fucking badly that sometimes it hurts to breathe, to think, and it's hard to

keep myself from kissing that smirk of your fac

come to terms with everything

exist when you're near me but mot of all when you're not near me

admit that I am

admit that I think

tell you that I love you and I need you near me one hundred percent of the time.

acknowledge this pull.

come to terms with everything.

So I settle for a letter. I'll hand it to you and

skedadle

skedaddle and you can read it without me there. I know you can probably mojo-upload it in to your mind at touch but I'm asking you not... Aw, hell, how will you know if you don't read the damn thing? Ugh. Whatever. Oh, I know. I'll leave it somewhere and give you some coordinates! Awesome. It's a plan.

Okay, Cas. Please don't judge me or hate me for this letter. If you find me gross for any of this, tell me, and I'll just stop. I don't want to drive you away and I just-

I fucking love you, Castiel, my angel of the lord.

There. I said-wrote-it.

I.

Love.

You?

Don't hate me.

You better know who this is from. Hint: it's not Sam.