Summer
Chapter Twenty-Four
Somewhere over America
June 15
Mom and Dad,
All the articles I’ve read about grief said anger was a natural part of all this, but I haven’t been strong enough to feel it, even after all this time. I was never angry at you, just disappointed in myself. That I didn’t expect you to react how you did, like I clearly should have. That I couldn’t be who you wanted. I didn’t know how to move on from that. Sad for you, sad for all of us.
Well, guess what. I think I fell in love with someone. And then I got scared, and I left. And I’m angry now.
I always did every single thing that was asked of me—from you, from the church, from God. Except this one thing. And you can’t get over it? It doesn’t make any sense. I know it makes sense to you. But it just…doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense, Mom, and I think you know it.
I spent time with another family this week. They were kind, and friendly, and acted like their gay son was totally normal. They welcomed me with open arms. I should have loved it, that kind of acceptance. And I did, for a while. But the more I think about it, the more it only makes me feel like a freak. Because it was so different from what you did. Because it was so new to me. Because itdidn’tfeel normal.
You raised me to believe that family and faith were everything.
How can you take that away from me and not expect me to crumble?
Because I feel like I’m crumbling, Mom and Dad. I thought I was okay, but I’m not. I’m hiking on the PCT, a dream you grew in me, Dad, and I feel so close to you when I’m on the trail, so close to all the hours on other trails we spent together growing up, but my body feels broken, my heart feels broken. I don’t know where I belong, and everything hurts.
So fuck you.
There, I finally said it.
And it felt awful.
I hated it.
I hate everything about this.
Your son,
Alexei
Unsent
***
June 16
Dear Ben,
I am so sorry. To be honest, the events of the last 48 hours are all a little hazy in my mind, and I can’t truly remember what I said or didn’t say to you that night. Which isn’t an excuse. I am sorry I left without saying good-bye. That was selfish of me, and I hope you can forgive me someday. But if you can’t, I understand that, too. I hope I didn’t ruin Carolina’s graduation. How is Carolina doing, and how was the graduation party? Carolina is going to be just fine, but I’m glad you’re with her.
I wanted to say congratulations. Because I can’t remember if I said that or not. About the job, I mean. Of course they wanted you. I hope it puts all of your unfounded doubts to rest. You are incredible, and are going to help so many people, and they are going to love you.
I wish I could explain myself better, why I had to leave. I’m so sorry if I hurt you in any way. Mainly, I am sorry for getting so attached to you when I knew the whole time that I was broken. Getting to meet you, and seeing a part of your Nashville world, was so special for me. You have so much love in your life, and you deserve all of it. Even experiencing a fraction of it was truly enlightening, and I can’t thank you for it enough.
I should go now,before this gets too…I just wanted to apologize, and let you know I’m back on the trail, and that I’m safe. I’m forwarding your resupply box that was here at Kennedy Meadows back to you. I’m thinking about all the homemade meals you’ll be able to eat now that you’re home, all the real food and flush toilets, and it makes me smile. I hope you eat all the Raisin Nut Bran your heart desires.
Alexei
PS. I stole a piece of junk mail from your kitchen, for your address. Please tell your mom she’s pre-approved for a Capital One credit card, and that I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye to her, either. I wish I could tell everyone that I’m sorry.
Sent from Kennedy Meadows
