love letters

bound

Tapping his foot on the floor, Gomèz seldom lets his eyes wander from the page his eyes are glued to. He bites his lip, rolls his pen, and puckers his lips-
But still, nothing. He can't think of a single thing to write. The page was sad- barren other than a few scribbled words reading "Dear Stranger," and a pathetic scribble of words that were to be but didn't sound quite right...
Gomèz lets a sigh and groan past his lips as he lays his head to the paper, ink staining his bronze cheek with his solemn mistake. Once calm again, he lifts his head and looks at his computer, which was on a tab called "NamePad"... On the tab was an address of a mailbox, set to send to a customized address based on a survey.
"This is a mistake," Gomèz thinks to himself subconsciously, rolling his knuckles and popping them on the fabric of his skinny thigh. He slides his hands up his sleeves, into the narrow openings, feeling along the scars and hairs of his sculpted forearm to calm himself down.
He crumples up the paper resting between his cumbersome, tired arms, tossing it into the small trash next to his desk along with the other embarassing, cringy letters he'd written previously.
Gomèz didn't have an amazing take on social cues- There wasn't anything inherently wrong with him, although... there might as well be, with the amount of awkward conversations he's had that's driven many people away. Gomèz sighs again, his chest growing heavy, as he light-handedly picks out a new piece of paper from his desk and places his pen on the top margin.
"To whom it may concern..."
Gomèz hums in frustration, trying to think of an introduction that doesn't make him sound like a weirdo...
"I'm so grateful that you snailed me!"
Gomèz sneers at his own creepy comment, covering the sentence he wrote with whiteout and instead writing...
"I'm honored to be able to talk to you through snail mail!"
Gomèz smiles at the friendlier segment he managed to write...
"My name is Steven Gomèz- Please call me Steve or Mr. Gomèz. I'm 26 years old, although funny enough, my birthday is in a few weeks; 20 days to be exact! I'm from Arizona- I still live here actually, it kinda sucks considering how bipolar the weather is, haha... anyway, when (or if...) you get this letter, tell me about yourself! What's your background? Where are you from? Are you employed? I work at a gas station myself, haha! Anyhow, I hope you'll get back to me, whoever you are! I'm sure it'll be nice to meet you!"
Gomèz smiles, feeling relieved, as he pulls a heart sticker and white envelope out of his drawer, Folding the paper neatly and pushing it kemptly into the narrow side. He licks the edge of the envelope, tasting the bitter, almost cherry-like glue, and pushing the opening closed, pushing a wax mark onto the vertex of the fancy envelope and a heart on the backside. He also writes his address, of course, just in case...
And he gets up for a visit to the NamePad post office.