Love Letters to You [On Hold]

two.

Entry #2
September 29th, 2034

I hope that you never read this.

After all, if you know what I am I know you'll run to the police. It's kinda hard not to tell the authorities. They make it so easy.

There's a sign outside my bedroom window that says "if you see something, say something." I think that's supposed to mean if I see someone who appears to have any peculiar relationships with someone of the same sex, I must tell the police immediately. If they find out I didn't, then they will kill me too.

I know I am risking a lot by writing these words on paper, but maybe if I don't say my name or your name ... We'll both be safe.

So I'll call myself Cal Raney. It sorta has a nice ring to it, right? And maybe you can be Nate Henry. You kinda look like a Nate.

You just moved next door a week ago. Up until then, I never felt these feelings for any other boy. Your hair was a sweet honey brown and it stuck out in ten different directions and it looked so good on you, but I didn't tell you that.

I knew I shouldn't have got involved with you but my mom saw you in your driveway lifting heavy boxes and suggested that I help. If I had kept my distance, maybe I wouldn't have felt this way.

But it was too late.

My mom had already called you over and just a few seconds later, you were staring at me with those big forest green eyes of yours.

"Yeah?" You asked with your hands on your hips and a dark furry brow raised.

My mom had her welcoming smile on. "Do you and your family need help moving?"

You looked at me then. "I think we're good."

I wish my mom left it that, but she kept insisting. "Oh, come on! This is my son, Cal. You two will probably be going to the same school together. He can help you move in."

You laughed lightly. "Well I guess it wouldn't hurt. Yeah, come on. I got some boxes that are way too heavy for one person to carry." And then you began to walk away and I followed behind reluctantly.

I still remember that day, Nate. You were so nice to me. I think that's why I found myself liking you. If you were a jerk to me, this would never happen. I would never be in the small confinements of my room, writing feverishly in my journal, and hoping that no one would ever know about my love for you.

Sometimes I look outside my bedroom window, which is directly across from yours, and see you in your bedroom. You never notice that I'm watching, which I guess is a good thing.

And then my eyes would drift towards the "if you see something, say something" sign and I slowly walk away from the window. I decide then that I don't want you to see me, because I know you will say something.