Chapter 66

Dear Izzy,

Izzy,

So I don't really know how to start this. Cleo, my therapist, thought it might be a good idea for me to write you a goodbye letter. So here goes nothing.

Truth is, I'm terrified that you're still out there, waiting for someone to save you. I don't know if I'll ever not wonder if they got it wrong.

But when I really do sit down and imagine what's going through YOUR head, out there, wherever you are—if you aren't dead, that is… I realize, no… you're not waiting to be saved. You'd be saving yourself. You'd be fighting with everything you have to survive.

And you would agonize over what losing you has done to us. You'd want us to move on. You'd want us to be happy. Because if it was me… that's what I'd want for you too.

I love you, Iz. So much. I'll always love you. For infinity. You were my partner in crime. My first taste of love. I don't know who I'd be if you didn't bulldoze your way into being my friend as kids. Because of you, I have a brother. Waylon. And to some degree, because of you, I have Jeremy too. Because even though I met him first… who knows if it would have amounted to anything, if not for you inviting me over that day and insisting we'd all be friends from then on out. Just like that.

Perhaps, that's part of why I've had such a hard time with all of this. With these feelings and doubts that I can no longer run away from, not without continuing to hurt myself and the people I love.

Letting go feels like a betrayal. Like I'm letting you down, after all you've given me. Which makes me wonder…

I know this letter is supposed to be about saying goodbye, but I think the only way I can do that and fully move on is if I'm honest with you, and myself, for the first time in my life.

Sometimes, especially lately, I wonder if the love I had for you was as intense and deep as it appeared.

For years I've been shoving these doubts down. Loving you harder and harder, with each day you were gone, until it became this really unhealthy thing. I hurt people because of it. Because I couldn't come to terms with the fact that I had doubts about us. Doubts about a lot of things. That I had started to question it all right before you were taken.

It's been a tough pill to swallow. But I'm also older now… years older than you, if you are in fact dead…and it's impossible not to look back now and see how young we were. How naive.

It's also impossible not to acknowledge now how different I was with you. I held back a lot. I don't know if you suspected, or knew I kept things from you, like my anxiety and my panic attacks and my abandonment issues. But I never gave all of me to you, despite loving you as much as I was capable of back then. I just wanted to be strong for you. I wanted to be someone worthy of you.

There's so much deconstructing I've had to do lately. So much reflecting and healing. So I guess that's where all this is coming from. And why I finally feel ready to confront some things head on.

For one, I think I might be bisexual.

I'm also pretty sure I'm into your brother.

We kissed. Twice. First, in a drunk, emotional mess when I broke my sobriety a couple months ago, because I'd finally accepted I had to move on. And then again a couple weeks ago, when I was sober, when he told me it wasn't real… just biology. Just me being hard up.

Maybe he's not totally wrong there. It's true, I haven't been with anyone since you.

So I can't really blame him for thinking that, for hating me. For not believing me anytime I try to explain. He seems to be under the impression that I only want him because I can't have you. That I've somehow… transferred my feelings for you, to him, because you're no longer here.

Maybe he's right.

He's wrong. Every fiber of my being repels it when I try to consider it. But I don't know how to convince him that my attraction to him is real. That I care for him not because he's the closest thing to having you… but because he's my best friend. He's always been something more, something undefinable. Fuckkkk

Even if I could convince him what I feel is real and separate from you… there's still the fact that he's your brother to contend with. His loyalty to you far outweighs mine. How could I even ask him to do that? I mean, why would he even consider taking a chance on me? Not only do we have our friendship to consider—in ruins right now that it may be—but then there's your parents, Waylon, the entire fucking town.

He'd be the one to take the brunt of that. They'd pity both of us, yes. But him… they'd eviscerate. Not your parents, but they definitely wouldn't understand. They'd think the same thing he does—everyone would—that he's just some replacement for you. Second choice.

I can't put him in that position. Even if he could feel something for me… I can't help but feel like it wouldn't be enough.

Wow, okay, so this letter kind of went off the rails. I feel like I should apologize. This was supposed to be about us.

Guess it's a good thing you'll never read this.

I love you. I hate that this fucking happened. You should be here. There's so much you wanted to do, and I hate that that was stolen from you. I hate that you never got a chance to fall in love with someone who wasn't me, someone who gave their all to you. Someone who'd love you without a single doubt.

You deserved that.

And truthfully, sometimes I hate you. I don't think I can move forward until I admit that. How…how angry I am with you sometimes. Why did you go into that maze, Iz? Why didn't you just go back inside with your brother and call me later? Why did us talking on the phone take precedence over your safety?

I guess in a lot of ways I hate me too. If I knew what would happen… I would've never answered the phone. Would've texted you and told you to go inside. Don't leave your brother or your parents' side.

I'm gonna let you go now, Iz. I have to. Please understand.

Please be at peace.

Love always, for infinity,

Your Mason

P.S. Did you know about Will and Way????