August 28
Alexei,
Well, damn. You really pulled out all the stops in that last letter, huh? Like, holy shit. If there was a hall of fame of love letters,desire lineswould definitely be in there.
I didn’t show that letter to Julie, or Carolina, or anyone. I’ve read it about a million times, though, just for me. You haven’t written again since then, and I have this feeling you won’t. Like that letter was your way of saying good-bye.
Which is unfortunate. Because while I couldn’t find the right words to say to you earlier in the summer, I finally have things I want to say to you now, Lex. More than could ever fit in this letter. But I figured trying to write down at least some of them would be a good start.
It made me really happy, what you said about letting in good people, Alexei. That was what I had hoped for, what I had wanted to show you—that there’s so much good in the world, that you can normally find it in your friends—when I made you make that pact, back in the desert. Before things got complicated between us, before I let myself fall in love with you.
I am not the sun, or however you put it. I know there are so many shitty people out there. I’ve seen it, over and over, from those fucking guys at Deep Creek Hot Springs, to the families I see sometimes at Lakeview, who fight over who’s getting their parents’ or their grandparents’ or their uncle’s most prized possessions before their family members are even fully gone. I mean, shit, I spent the majority of my twenties working customer service; I know people aren’t always good.
But thereisalways good somewhere, Lex. And you deserve as much of it as you can find.
What I’ve really been working on this summer, though, in between all the working and the missing you, is trying to believe that I deserve it, too.
I didn’t tell you a lot about my past relationships, Lex, and that’s on me. But they weren’t always great. I always threw myself all the way into them anyway. There was one boyfriend in particular, Robbie…
I made a lot of bad decisions in my twenties, but staying with Robbie too long was probably the worst one.
By the time I got out to the PCT, I had gotten kind of burnt out on it all.
I was supposed to be taking a break from men, from making bad decisions, when I met you. But then you kept saving my life. And I couldn’t walk away.
What I’ve been wanting to tell you, though, is that I’ve been going to therapy. Julie suggested it a few times, and I finally stopped being defensive about it and tried. I’ve been going most of the summer, actually. Therapy has been good for me in lots of ways, depending on what I need to get off my chest that week. My mess of feelings about you, and the trail. Or helping me work through shit I see at work. (Charlene passed away, and while she isn’t the first patient I’ve lost, for some reason it hit me hard.) Or working through grief I guess I still have about my aunt Birdie. Because watching someone die of Alzheimer’s is hard, and I guess I sort of went right into nursing school instead of really processing that.
A lot of the time, though, we talk about my exes.
Ruth, that’s my therapist, has helped me recognize how toxic a lot of my past relationships were, for various reasons.
And that letter from you, Lex—that letter was kind of a lightbulb moment for me. All that stuff you said about loving how I let other people in. Because Robbie—well, Robbie sort of hated that. But you never did, did you? Even with everything that was going on with you and your family, you never got mad when I wanted to talk about mine. Never got upset when I texted on my phone for hours. It was like…it just made you happy, whatever made me happy. Whatever I loved, you loved, too.
So many of my past partners wanted me to change something about myself. And I always believed them. That I needed to be better, different, grow up.
But you never wanted to change me. You were always just you. Wanting just me.
I think, for a long time, I kept letting people break my heart because I didn’t know what else to do. Letting them leave, or hurt me, because I grew to expect it. Because maybe I thought I deserved it.
But I think maybe I have to try more. To stand up for my own happiness, you know? Unbreak my own heart, sometimes. I think I’ve been so obsessed with all of my bad decisions that I haven’t truly given myself enough chances to make good ones.
And you know, Lex, it really isn’t fair. That you always got to decide. When you said (or didn’t say) good-bye. I think it’s time I had a say.
Plus. I hear there are some waterfalls in the Northwest I need to see.
Ben
Unsent
III
Oregon-Washington Border
Mile 2154
September
Chapter Twenty-Eight
