Work Text:
Saturday, December 12th
Transcribed by Matthias Helvar
Jesper,
I don’t know why I have such a hard time with these things. I think somewhere deep down, I know that you love me just as much as I love you.
But that almost seems impossible, doesn’t it? It seems impossible, in a less important sense, because it doesn’t make sense that I’m enough for you to love. I know that I’m smart—mostly because you won’t stop telling me—but it’s still hard to reconcile with my thoughts to the contrary after all this time.
More importantly, it seems impossible, because how could anyone on Earth (Matthias, remember to capitalize Earth, he says. Scientists.) love someone as much as I love you?
I didn’t think it was possible to feel this much about anything to begin with. Docility and neutrality are skills I’ve perfected, which I’m sure you know, but I really, really, don’t want to be neutral with you.
It’s hard to explain exactly when I started loving you, because I think deep down I always did. The moment we met, I knew that even if you never felt the same way, I was meant to love you. It sounds so corny to word it like that, but I really can’t think of another way to put it.
You are so lovely I don’t know what to do with myself, which is why I’m always so flustered around you. It doesn’t help that I can’t hide a blush to save my life.
Everyone adores you, and I completely understand why. You are electric and loud, and you never stop moving. A party isn’t worth going to if you aren’t there, and nothing can save a bad situation like one of your smiles. But more than that, you’re incredibly kind. I want to tell you everything about myself—not because I want sympathy or forgiveness for the flaws my past has passed on like an old heirloom nobody wants—but because I trust you. You’ve never given me a reason not to, but more importantly, you prove to me everyday that perhaps there are good people in this world who want to care about you.
You don’t judge anyone, and you don’t judge me. And Jesper, sometimes I wish you’d treat yourself the same way you treat everyone else. I’ve seen the confidence you carry yourself with, and it’s lovely. I only wish that one day you would start to really mean it. You deserve to give yourself a break, sometimes.
Anyway, I might as well move on from that, now. Matthias’ hands look tired.
(They’re fine, Wylan.)
I don’t know if you remember this, but in September around a year ago, we were sitting in our English 101 lecture. It was a Gen Ed class, and I could tell that you were bored because you kept clicking your pen and scuffing your foot on the floor. I don’t blame you for not paying attention—I listened to an audiobook of the chapter we were reading later, and it was so boring I almost fell asleep three times.
We’d barely known each other then, but you sat next to me because you said I had pretty curls, and I’m a little embarrassed to say that I thought about that for a week afterwards. Anyway, I got called on to read a chapter out loud about an hour into class. I thought it was ridiculous that we were doing popcorn reading in college, but more than that I was petrified, because my biggest fear had come true.
I sat frozen in my chair, and thought for sure I was set up to be embarrassed just like my father said I would be if I decided to go to college in the first place. My face went completely red—nowhere near the rosy pink color that creeps up when you compliment me—and my hands were shaking on the brittle page of my book.
You hadn’t been been paying attention all of class, but for some reason, you were paying attention to me, then.
The professor didn’t know our names yet, so she was just picking names from her roster. Anyone could have been Wylan Van Eck, and you knew that. Just when I thought I was done for, you winked at me and started reading the chapter like it was nothing.
I suppose I was done for, after all, but in a different way.
After class I tried thanking you, but you just waved your hands and said, “It’s ridiculous that we have to popcorn read in college. I don’t blame you for not paying attention.”
And you had no idea then—no idea that I couldn’t look at words without getting frustrated and confused—but you’d helped me anyway. And I’d sort of wanted to cry.
That’s not why I love you, per say, but it’s moments like that when I’m reminded of how worthy you are of everything that the world has to offer you.
My dad used to tell me that it would be hard to for anyone to love me because of my incompetency, but I’m starting to feel like maybe he was wrong. Because he’s incredibly incompetent, and somehow Alys saw the good in him, for at least a while.
(I also remember when you punched Jan in the face. I’m not one for violence, but I got a good kick out of it. -Matthias)
I just saw Matthias pencil in something else that wasn’t in time with what I was saying. Read with caution.
Anyhow, I’ve been told a lot of things in my life. Some of them bad and hurtful and upsetting. But with you, I never have to worry about anything except if I’m blushing too hard or making it obvious that perhaps I love every single thing about you.
And that’s all it really is, Jes. I could say a million words, change a million rounds of your bedsheets, but everything boils down to the simple fact that I love you so much and I couldn’t ever let you go. I’m sorry that I’m tactless about expressing myself, and I’m sorry that I kissed you on Genya Safin’s porch without saying a word after. I think I just wanted to hang onto the moment for a little while, just in case I’d eventually have to let go of the implications of its memory.
You are chaos, but you are the only constant piece of sense and comfort in my anxious heart. And despite the fact that I might get a stroke from just how quickly, my heart beats for you, and my eyes open for your glance.
(Oh Wylan that’s sweet.)
Matthias has written something again, hasn’t he? I can’t help it if I’m being poetic. Nina has me listening to a lot of Taylor Swift right now, and Folklore is always on repeat. Invisible String reminds me of you, by the way. (Oh, Nina said that one reminds her of me!)
Alys’ baby is coming in a few days, and I know it’s premature, but sometimes I think about what it might be like to have a family with you. I’d have to reconcile with the fact that I’d be the strict parent, for one thing, but it would be worth it for you. We wouldn’t have ice cream for dinner every night, but you’d try anyway. We’d have a dog and a big backyard, and if nothing else, we’d have each other. I feel like that might be okay.
The only reason I’m being so honest is because you’ll never read this, but I think it’s better to let my feelings materialize in some way. That’s what Matthias says, anyway.
I love you.
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.
Yes, I’ve made Matthias write that seven times.
I love you so much, and I will as long as I know what love is.
-Wylan <3
(I’ve drawn one of those text hearts Nina showed me! Neat!)