“Fuck,” Creed whispers as he presses a kiss to my cheek just below my eye, then to my temple, then to my forehead. “I was only half-joking before, but I’msowriting you dirty love letters now.”
I can’t help but laugh as I cling to my best friend, who has definitely come to mean something more.
“I can’t wait.” I smile as I feel the truth of my words deep in my soul. And maybe even a little lower than that. My damn boxers feel tighter, but I feel lighter, and more than ready to get back to a new version of normal so I can go home and explore every bit of this new bond between us.
Letters & Polaroids
Riley’s Letter Exchange
July 21
Dear Riley,
It’s been three days since you walked so confidently through the doors of that facility, and my heart hasn’t beat the same since. I miss you so much, but I am immensely proud of you for doing this.
You’re strong. So damned strong, Ri, and I can’t wait to tell you that to your face again.
Speaking of faces, please enjoy this photo I took of Creed pouting while staring at a picture of you. He’s such an animal sometimes, but his bleeding heart gets worn right on his sleeve when it comes to me and you.
I’ve got my first therapy appointment coming up at the end of this week as well. I figured I’m not as okay as I pretend to be if I’m waking up from nightmares and spacing out, thinking I’m back in that room.
Sometimes, it’s the darkness and the quiet of the night. But the other day, it was because I walked in on Creed shaving his face; his straight razor set me off. It took over an hour to come out of it, and that’s when I decided that I need help, too.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all gloomy. I promised I’d speak up, so I’m keeping my promise.
But enough of that.
Tell me about how everything is going! How are you feeling? Wilder seemed like a great guy to have as a therapist. I hope the staff is treating you well, because if not, I’ll come down there and kick their asses.
I miss you, my sweet Riley. I’ll see you soon!
Xoxo
—Collins
July 25
Dear Collins,
Never ever apologize for speaking up, Snow. I might not be right by your side, but I’m always here to listen, help, and support you in good times, as well as on the hard days. I’m proud of you, baby. Always.
Creed pouting is a rare sighting, indeed, but it’s fucking adorable, so kudos on capturing that moment! I’ll cherish it forever and totallynotuse it as blackmail in the future.
You asked how therapy is going? It sucks. I mean it’s good, but it sucks. Wilder feels pretty confident that I won’t need surgery. Just some consistent exercises and some adaptive gear to help me with my grip as I go. Right now, I have to have these ridiculous pool noodles wrapped around tiny objects like spoons, pencils, and yep…drum sticks. The shaking and trembling persists, but I’m learning to push past the frustration and just keep working toward my goal.
Coming home. Seeing your face again.
Kissing you. Touching you. Loving you.
The one upside to this place is the jukebox in the cafeteria. It’s chock full of all your favorites, Snow. So of course, I played some Bowie when it was my turn to choose a song.
I miss you, too, baby.
Just three more weeks and I’m homebound.
Xo—
Riley
