Hate me

Aspen

I wake with a jolt, wondering if I overslept until I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s just after seven a.m. 

I’m not sure if Knox is pla

Yawning, I turn over in bed. “Wake up, sleepy—”

He’s gone. 

For a moment I’m worried, but then I notice a note addressed to Stray on his pillow. 

He probably ran out to get breakfast. 

Smiling to myself, I unfold the letter. 

My heart skips several agonizing beats as I take in his words. 

Stray, 

I’ve written this letter so many times now I’ve lost count, but no matter how I say it, or what words I choose to put on this paper…the end result will still be the same. 

You’ll be angry and upset. 

Hell, you may even hate me again.   

I get it. If it was me who woke up one morning to find you gone, I’d be going out of my fucking mind. 

But this isn’t what you think. 

I know you think I’m leaving you while you’re at your worst, but it’s me. 

I’m at my worst. 

All my life my father said I’d never amount to anything, and for the longest time I believed him. 

Because I never had a reason not to.

Unlike you, I didn’t have a dream college. I also didn’t have goals, aspirations, or an occupation that made me light up from the inside out whenever I talked about it.

Fuck, Stray. Most days, I didn’t even know if I would make it out alive to see the next sunrise. 

I’m not abandoning you, because that implies I’ll never be back again. 

I will. 

I just need to get my shit together first and make something of myself. 

For me and for you.

In the meantime, I want you to focus on you. 

You’ve wanted to get into Stanford for as long as I’ve known you and I want you to have every single thing you’ve worked your ass off for. 

I also want you to smile, go to parties, make new friends, blow a test or two, sip some fancy drinks with dumb pretentious names while you study at the local coffee shops, bake a fuck-ton of cupcakes, and turn down every guy who hits on you…because they will most definitely hit on you. 

Point is, I want you to live, Aspen. More than live. I want you to grab life by the goddamn balls and fucking fly.  

And no, I don’t expect you to wait for me. But I’ll sure as fuck be waiting for you. 

Because you were the only person who ever helped me. 

And you’ll own every part of my fucked-up soul until they put me in the ground. 

They say strays always come back...

But this time, I’ll be the one coming back to you. 

I don’t know when...but I will. 

I promise. 

Always yours, 

Knox

P.S: There’s some money in my dresser drawer. It’s only a couple thousand, but I’ll send you more after the house sells. I know you don’t want to, but take it. 

P.P.S: Seriously, Stray. Take the fucking money.