Hi Frederick.
It'll take a while to get used to texting you like this, but anyway.
Today is January 30th, the day we had our second date. You had been so busy all month (I counted the coffee shop as our first date). A lot of apologizing ensued when you called me. I was apprehensive; I mean I wasn't sure if you were into me or just using me. Either way I agreed, partly due to curiosity and partly because spending every Saturday alone was becoming boring. You took me to the most expensive place in town. I knew you were a call centre agent and couldn't afford the place. So I faked hating the place and made you take me to a fast food place. We sat in a little corner section eating cheeseburgers in our suits. You dropped me home, and kissed me for the first time. I didn't want it to end, but wanted to keep my walls up a bit longer. So I told you it was a great kiss and got out of the car, leaving you to stare at my butt as I walked away. I still eat at that place sometimes. I'm lying; it's more like all the time since you're gone. It's disgusting and greasy I always sit in that corner seat. I know the waiters pity me, but it's just a small way to still feel close to you.
Love, Thomas.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers To You(Wattys2015)
Short StoryTexting your dead husband could be therapeutic, at least that's what his psychiatrist told him. When Thomas lost Frederick his whole world crumbled. So he went to therapy, and was told of a method that could help him deal with the loss of his husba...
