Work Text:
Jess called ‘Come in’ the moment there was a tapping on his door, turning around to see Sasha appear with a smile on her face.
“Mail call,” she said, proffering an envelope. “Not that I was snooping, but I did happen to notice it was postmarked Connecticut, so...” she trailed off, giving a Jess a knowing look as she placed the letter in his hand. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me,” she added.
By the time Jess looked up to thank her, she was already gone. Still, he appreciated what she had said. With Sasha, it was always hard not to appreciate her.
Reminding himself to breathe, Jess set about opening up the envelope, not even bothering to wonder why his hands were shaking. He knew well enough, because he recognised the handwriting so easily. Not Luke. Not anybody else he may have come to know during his time in Stars Hollow. No, this letter was from only one person, somebody he never could’ve expected to be sending him mail. Rory Gilmore.
Dear Jess,
When I sat down to write this letter, I had so many things I wanted to say, but now that I’m here with the pen in my hand, staring at all the blank white space, everything seems to have gone blank in my head too.
I guess I should start with Dave Rygalski. You should know that he’s back in Stars Hollow now. UCLA just wasn’t for him. He missed home too much. He definitely missed Lane an awful lot, as well as his parents and his friends. It was a tough decision, I think, but in the end, he knew he was never going to be happy until he came home. He’s transferred to Yale now and I have to admit, it will be nice having another familiar face around.
It’s because of Dave, and also Lane, that I’m writing to you. Not because they championed your cause or anything, but all their talk of keeping in touch by mail when they were parted, it got me thinking. You called me before, a few times, and never said a word. That hurt almost as much as you leaving without saying anything in the first place, but the more that I think about it, the more I start to think I understand why you were always silent.
You told me once that the verbal thing comes and goes with you. It sounded like such a throwaway statement at the time, an excuse even, for not being as articulate with my mom as you always were with me. I wasn’t sure then if I believed you or not, but once we were together, there were times when you never seemed to have the words to say to me either, not when it mattered. It was always different when you wrote things down.
In the margins of my books that you borrowed, in notes you left in my bag or my pocket for me to find later, you had words enough to say then. Beautiful words. All the things I wish you could have said to me out loud, but you almost never did. I used to be mad about that, but the more I go over it in my head since you’ve been gone, the more I realise that it’s not entirely your fault that you are that way. I also see now that I’m not so different myself.
There were a lot of things I never said too, but I probably should have. Some nice things, like the fact I’m pretty sure I was in love with you. Some not so nice things, like calling you out when you got it wrong and made me cry tears I never told you about. I don’t know why it seemed so hard for us to share the big things with each other. Why you felt you couldn’t tell me what was happening with you, with school and your dad and Luke and everything. Why I couldn’t say what was on my mind either.
Writing it all down seems easier, so that’s what I’m doing. E. L. Doctorow once said, ‘Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go.’ I want to learn to be better at telling you how I feel, Jess. I was hoping maybe you would want to learn with me. I know this is probably the worst time to be building bridges, what with the distance between us being so far and everything, but I just hate knowing you’re out there somewhere thinking that maybe I don’t care about you anymore. I also hate not knowing how you feel about me now.
Obviously, we need to start from the beginning. Share some truths, build our friendship from the ground up, and then, I guess, see what happens next. If you want to try, then this is my proposal - write back to me. Write and tell me what you feel, about me, about what’s going on in your life, about anything, really. Just write back and be honest, because I think it’s the best possible place to start.
I hope to hear from you soon, but if I don’t, I will understand. I wish you only good things, Jess, I honestly do.
With love, Rory.
Jess sat staring at the last few lines of Rory’s letter for what felt like an hour, wondering at all she had said to him and how in the heck he would ever find the words to respond. Writing probably would be easier than having to say what he felt out loud. That had always seemed like so much pressure, making him so anxious that he was going to screw up, because didn’t he always screw up? On paper was better. He could write and rewrite, edit out the stupid parts, make it make sense before he sent his letter off to Rory and hoped she would like what she read.
Thinking for a moment or two more, it wasn’t long before Jess was turning back towards the desk, rifling around for a pen and the legal pad. He started simply with ‘Dear Rory,’ and from there the words just started to flow. With a smile on his face, Jess added line after line, paragraph after paragraph, the warm feeling that had started in his chest as he read Rory’s letter expanding all over his body. He wasn’t entirely sure what that feeling was, but if he had to guess, he would say it felt a lot like hope.