Harsh | Punk Luke Hemmings

Chapter Forty-Eight

On the inside there was a sheet, well a few sheets. There were lined sheets, all folded up from being inside the envelope. I slowly unfolded them, scared of what was inside the pocket of paper. When I opened it up, I realize it was a letter.

And it was addressed to me.

Dear Andy,

        Hi, I know I've screwed up gravely. I don't deserve you and I know that; but I think I have told you that before. There are just things in my head that stop me from making decisions that make sense to anyone but me. I get mad for really stupid reasons, reasons that I really shouldn't get mad about. I also push you away because I don't know how to accept people, when I am not accepted myself. 
        When we first started getting to know each other, telling each other things I didn't even know I was capable of saying out loud, I didn't fully tell you the truth. There has been things wrong with me way before I even met Chelsea. I know I should have told you this earlier, but it was hard to, and I don't really feel comfortable talking about it. To start, my dad was absent as you know and my mom did everything she could to make my life easier, but to me that wasn't enough. Nothing was every really enough for me. 
        I would go to school and get made fun of for not having a dad, I got angry. I know you can relate because of your dad. I don't know how you got through it but I turned to anger. You've seen me at my worst so you know how bad it is. I can't help it. There was something wrong with me that I didn't know how to control. Then Chelsea came along and I thought I found my savior, she saved me from myself. At least that's what I thought. But now looking back, I was never the greatest boyfriend; I was selfish, ungrateful and cocky. I let my band that was forming take place of her. Whenever she tried to get me to snap back, I would get angry. Something I do a lot I know. 
      And that's how It happened. That's how I killed the one person that could've saved me. The last thing conversation we ever had was the argument we had in the car before it crashed, and it was about me being a douchebag. I thought I was always right, always superior but I was wrong.  
     After she passed that's when things got really bad. I knew I was depressed but I didnt want to get treated. I didn't want someone to control me. But I didn't realize that I needed that to be helped. I was depressed, I had anxiety and I probably was a little bipolar. My anxiety lead to panic attacks, and really bad ones at that. I haven't had one when I've been around you, but I think it's because you are my anchor. You help me get through anything. 
      So when you came along, I thought you were challenging my emotions by giving me shit. I didn't know how to handle myself around you simply because no one has ever cared enough about me to tell me the truth. Now I realize you are the one that is saving me Andy. I know we didn't get along and hell we still don't. But that's how it should be, I don't want it any other way.
    I don't know why I had gotten so jealous over something so stupid. You were trying only trying to help your friend, who I guess has some of the same problems as me. I'm just an asshole. But you know the thing is, I can't push you away. It's not possible because you are the reason I am still here. I was going to confess my love for you, but I let my jealousy get in the way. I am nothing. I am a horrible person, I am too ignorant, I don't think twice about anything. I am nothing compared to you.  
    But here's the other thing, I love you so damn much. I don't know whether or not I will get the courage to tell you or maybe I'll just give you this letter. The fear I have facing you and telling you how I feel is outstanding. I hope you will forgive me, for my stupid mistake now, and probably many I will make in the future. Maybe if you did read this, I hope you finally understand me.
   One time, I talked about love at first sight, and I asked you if you believed in it. You asked me how I even know if it was real. I responded with how you just have to experience it to know. That's the thing, I already knew. I hope you figured out I loved you since the day we met and I will love you until the day I die.

With Love,

Luke

 The tears stream down my face after reading it. I then proceed to read it through three more times. I figure out that this was what he was writing the day I told him I loved him, it wasn't a song. What surprised me the most was that he was going to give it to me instead of telling me, just because he didn't know if he could.

I try to contain my sobs, but I can't. The letter was filled with self-hate, regret and secrets. I didn't know that Luke had gone through this much, I didn't even know that he was bipolar. I knew he was depressed and he had anxiety, but this was new to me. But the more I thought of it, the more it made sense. 

All of those times when he would make comments about being 'fucked up' he truly thought he was. He thought he was the victim of his own demons, that he couldn't fight the voices in his head. He never thought he was good enough, even if he was to me, he would never believe me. He was too focused on trying to be good enough for himself, he couldn't focus on anything else.  

I felt like the Luke I know, was nothing like the Luke in this letter. He was changed, he was happy. He  Or that's what I thought, but I guess I didn't know as much as I thought.

I wipe the tears under my eyes, feeling the emptiness more than ever. I just wanted to just him and tell him it was alright. I wanted to let him know he was worth it, and he meant the world to me. I couldn't stand the constant waiting, I needed to know what happened, good or bad. The anticipation was killing me, inside and out.

I let another chorus of sobs roll through my body. I was just about to give up and go home, just like before, but something stopped me. It was a noise. My sobs subsided, as I stayed as quiet as I could to hear the noise.

It was footsteps, or someone moving in the downstairs. My fear shot up, Liz shouldn't be back this soon. The footsteps then seem to speed up, just like my heart-rate. Before I knew it the footsteps were going up the stairs, coming towards me. I thought about how there was nothing I could do at this point other than sit here and think about whether or not it's a murderer. My heart was pounding by the time the sounds of feet got close to the door, I was scared of what I was going to see.

The door was barely cracked, just enough to see the person outside. My breath hitched.

"Andy," He chokes out, stepping into the room so I could get a good view of him. My sobs starts to return to my weak body.

"Luke."