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The night after Mike told his mother about his feelings for Will, he felt the full weight of lifetime’s exhaustion pushing down on his chest unrelentingly. He booked a ticket to New York for Will’s birthday and promptly passed out on top of his covers, still fully dressed. When he eventually woke, although it wasn’t drastically late, his mother and Holly were already in their bedrooms. Mike glanced around his own room, hoping sleep would quickly come to claim him again.
It didn’t.
Instead he lay in his bed and noticed how different his room was now that most of his things were in Bloomington. He hadn’t really paid attention to that detail in all the times he’d returned home, but it felt strange now to be in this room so inherently his own, but missing the most noticeable details of himself. That line of thinking ebbed and flowed and it didn’t take long before Mike realised the three biggest things that were missing in his childhood bedroom:
The one way sign (which he realised at that moment had been pointing to his closet for all of high school which was certifiably insane.)
Will’s “the heart” painting
The framed photo of El
It didn’t take long before Mike got up from his bed. Sitting at his desk, he scrambled quietly but frantically, for pen and paper.
Mike wasn’t sure how long he sat there, writing, but when he was done, he moved like the house was on fire, leaping down the stairs with his car keys tight in hand.
As Mike sat down on the bench, the crisp night air seemed to still. He stared at the Hawkin’s library entrance. Without even closing his eyes, he could see her there. Picture the way she had held herself that day, chin up, jaw set, eyes holding back tears. Mike remembered his hysterical screams, the way he’d thrashed against the military officers.
He tried his hardest not to think about that feeling of bottomless despair as he pulled out a piece of paper from jacket pocket. With shaking hands, he unfolded it.
“Dear El,” he read into the empty air, voice shaking already. “The last time I sat on this bench with Hopper, it felt like I was saying my final goodbye to you. Or maybe my goodbye was later that day, after the Party’s last campaign in the basement. Either way, graduation felt like an end and a beginning rolled into one. I really thought that when I decided to go to the ceremony, it was a sign that I had finally matured from a stupid little boy into a less stupid young man, or whatever. The point is I was making the choice to leave childhood behind, and walk the road to moving on with my life. And stupidly, I figured that because of that one decision, everything would just work out again. Because it had to. Like I said; stupid.”
Mike laughed humourlessly, “I should have known these things aren’t that simple. That’s like the one thing you think I would have learnt by now.” Mike looked up from the letter, almost expecting to see El’s toothy crooked smile. He swallowed his disappointment.
“I guess my sense of direction is just shit, even without you here to mess with the compass. My journey to move forward has been a huge mess. Like facing a Dracolich with zero XP and no backup; a complete disaster. Needless to say, I’ve gotten lost a few times along the way. I have stumbled and tripped and taken more than a few hits. And no, that’s not an exaggeration because Lucas did punch me in the face.”
Mike smiled at the thought of El goading Lucas on, maybe even landing a punch herself. He didn’t think she would ever want to punch him, no matter how much he deserved it, but even so, it was fun to picture El as just…Mike’s friend.
“You might be happy to know that I’m managing much better these days though. Now that I’m not trying to live for anyone else but me, things are easier. It helps that I don’t feel like I’m doing this alone anymore. All that to say that even though I’m back here, it’s not like the last time, El. I’m not sitting here the same way I had been back on graduation day. Back then I was prepared to sit here until I could reverse time or until I lost what was left of my mind. Whichever came first, I guess. But tonight, I’m different, and I’m only visiting. I hope that’s okay.”
“I sometimes worry that I’m so different now, you might not even recognise me. Honestly, I don’t think this version of me sitting here is someone you ever really got to know. So let me introduce myself.”
“Hi. My name is Michael, but you can call me Mike, it’s what most people do. I’m nineteen years old. An amateur fantasy writer. Broke in a truly devastating way, but always keen to spend my dad’s money so it worked out. I’m a huge nerd and a member of the greatest Dungeons and Dragons party in existence. I recently discovered that I enjoy cooking and I’m not half bad at it. I might also be developing a slight addiction to skittles, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m kind of an asshole because it's kinda fun to be one, at least in my opinion. I think my therapist would probably disagree and blame it on childhood trauma or some bullshit but really, what does he know. And I really like the colour yellow, I don’t know why. I find it soothing. I am also deeply in love with one Will Byers.”
The air whipped in his ears as Mike wiped the tears from his face, frustrated that they had already started to fall. Through blurry eyes he continued to read.
“I love him, El. I love him so much and I’m tired of pretending that I didn’t always love him. Maybe it’s out of line to confess any of this to you. Maybe you’d hate me for it. Maybe it’s disrespectful, but I should be able to talk to you about this, right? I mean, before we were an “us” you and I were friends, weren’t we? Sometimes I’m not sure about that one. I don’t know if I treated you as well as I would a friend, which sucks in ways I cannot begin to process. I think I might have to save that subject for a different letter.”
“I really hope you don’t hate me for loving him. Even if it’s selfish wishful thinking, I want to believe that you’d understand. Why wouldn’t you? You were kind, and good, and you loved Will too, didn’t you? You had learnt what it’s like to be in his orbit. After becoming his family, I’m sure you understood why we all fought so hard to bring him back that first time he was taken from us. It’s like Will… it’s like Will is the sun, and without him nothing else exists.”
He took a short, unstable breath, the paper shook. “The thing is, El, you might not know this, but if Will is the sun, bright and shining, then I’m his summer, blue sky. The canvas for him to shine from. In the time that you knew me, I was pretending to be a different type of sky. A dark night— a place for the stars, the moon and you —but I’ve come to see that even though I could care for the stars and the moon deeply, I’d never stop waiting for the sun to rise.”
“I don’t know if that makes any sense, but I guess this is my long winded and overly complicated way of explaining myself to you. And apologising.”
His grip tightened on the paper, pulling it firm so it didn’t shudder from the wind. “I’m so sorry, El. About everything. You deserved so much better than I ever gave you. Your first boyfriend should have been a guy who could tell you how much he loved you without hesitation. I tried to be that guy for you but I’m not. I’m just not. I’m sorry that I’m not.”
Mike didn’t know why he waited for a reply. It just felt like what he was supposed to do.
“But I also forgive myself for not being him,” Mike said, the words coming out as a wet sob. “I know that’s unfair. You might despise me, and you would have every right. I hope you don’t though. I hope you know that even though I wasn’t the right guy for you, I’m happy you were my first girlfriend. You’ll always be my girl, El. My only girl, ever.”
“It was truly an honor to be loved by you. I need you to know that I love you too. I can write it now that I’ve admitted it’s a different type of love. If I’d figured that out sooner, I think we’d have saved ourselves a lot of hurt. I am sorry that I caused you more pain in an already painful life. I’m sorry that I never learnt how to be a good friend to you. Mostly, I am sorry that you didn’t get to know you as Jane. I didn’t even try. You should know that when I imagine you now, it’s as her. And you’re someplace warm and full of life, surrounded by interesting people who are enamoured by you, for being you. Not for what you can do, but for who you are. A family of people who understand you better than you ever thought possible. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope you left those waterfalls far behind you and went off to go find a dream of your own.”
Clearing his throat, Mike pushed on, gripping the bottom edge of the page. “You might think the reason I wrote this letter was to appease my guilt. You might even be right about that. Truthfully, I don’t know. But whatever the reason, there is something else I want to say to you: thank you, Jane. Even with how complicated I made everything, I’m so grateful to have met you. You brought hope into my life when I really needed it. You taught me how to believe and now I forever will. With love, always, Mike.”