Page 47 of Our Secrets and Scars

Salt Lake City, UT 84106

Kinsley,

I promised myself I wouldn’t write to you again until I heard from you. That even though the silence between us has been killing me, I wouldn’t be the first to speak. Guess it’s easier to break promises to yourself than to someone else.

It’s just, there’s something I need to tell you. And I don’t know why I feel so desperately about you needing to know, but I have this unmanageable churning of guilt in my gut, like I’m doing something wrong or betraying you in some way.

I met someone.

Someone else. Another girl. A woman with dark hair and brown eyes dappled with gold dust. She’s a short-ass too, and I say that only with affection. Probably the tiniest adult I’ve ever seen. It’s adorable really. And her smile, fuck… it’s like sunshine.

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Truth is, she reminds me of you in a lot of ways. Like you, she’s determined and focused. She cares a lot about outward appearances or seems to anyway, but underneath it all, she’s struggling to accept herself for who she is. She’s hiding a lot of things too. And I always got the feeling that even though you’d say that you tell me everything, you kept some secrets just for you. But I don’t blame you for that. I didn’t tell you everything either.

It’s weird, but I feel like I’m cheating on you. And I know that’s crazy because we weren’t ever really anything, but I cared for you as if we were. We might have only existed in letters, but it was real to me. It felt like more.

Violet is real to me too. I get this feeling with her like I knew her in a previous life. She’s familiar in the way I always found you to be. Like I’ve met her before. But I keep holding myself back, stopping myself from leaning in and kissing her because my thoughts find themselves drifting to you. And that’s not fair on any of us. When I kiss her for the first time, it’s only her I want to be thinking of. That’s the very least of what she deserves.

So, I guess this is my goodbye. My swan song of sorts.

Things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to between us, Kinz. But maybe what I wanted was impossible. Maybe I thought we could have been something someday, held hands in the street, kissed in the rain, done all the romantic crap that real couples get to do. But it’s okay that we didn’t get that. I didn’t need it to know that what I felt for you was real. I didn’t need a lifetime to know that I loved you.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on from you, but I have to try. I’ve spent too much of my life locked away without the freedom to truly live, and now that I’m out, I can’t allow myself to be held back by unrequited love. I’ve missed too much to miss any more.

But believe me when I say there’s nothing more I want than the best for you. And though I’ve always hoped that the best for you was me, I know now that it’s not. But that’s okay. You were my favorite song, Kinz, and forgetting you will be impossible. But the life I’ve been longing for is finally within reach, and I have to give myself the chance to take it. Missing you will be inevitable. And loving you will just be something I have to live with until my heart stops beating the rhythm of your name.

Promise me something, Kinsley? Go out and live the best life. Don’t hold yourself back with unnecessary insecurities about your scars and imperfections. Remember, they’re a reminder of what you’ve survived. You may have been hurt, but your scars are the evidence of your healing. Take pride in that.

Take courage and live, okay?

All my love, Fletcher

Twelve

Holden

Present day

Thewhiskeyisaged,but the night is young as I sit opposite my uncle Mack in a dive bar in downtown Salt Lake City.

My fingers tap against the glass of my tumbler in rhythm with the music a local alt-rock band is playing. Around me, psychedelic lights flash across the faces of people grinding together on the dance floor.

I watch them silently, wondering what it must feel like to live so freely. To dance in a bar surrounded by strangers, holding overflowing glasses of liquor and not even noticing when the liquid spills down their fingers and hands. To live without burden. To be careless. It’s something I fear I won’t ever experience.

I came close though.

With Violet.

Touching her, feeling her skin, stroking my hands over her body, and memorizing every little bump and crevice that blesses her is the closest I’ve come in my twenty-one years. She gave me a taste of what life could have been if my choices hadn’t led to being locked in a cell for years.

And then she told me to stay away.

“What’s up, kid?” Mack asks, his voice like gravel from years of smoking cheap cigars. “You’ve got a face like a wet weekend.”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “You know me. I’m always good.”

He takes a long swallow of his bourbon, then tuts and looks me dead in the eye. “If that’s the line you wanna go with, then fine. But I ain’t stupid. You can do a lot of things in this life, son, but you can’t kid a kidder.”

I smile, and despite the ache in my gut, I don’t have to force it. “I know, Uncle Mack, but I’m all right, I swear.”

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