letters to joshua (bxb) ✓

xviii

ashton,

I'm writing this to you after our (somewhat) impromptu meeting today. I've had a lot of changes in my life and it's nice to know that you are the one constant that I can rely on. 

honestly, I didn't know if you'd show. I know you weren't expecting to see anyone while you picked up the mail, and I was terrified that your mother would come out instead. god, it's been a long time since I saw you in your pajamas, and is it too cliche to say that you look even better than I remembered? sorry, not the point.

something happened the morning that I came to visit you and I just needed to see a familiar face. my parents reached out.

since they kicked me out at the beginning of camp last year, I hadn't heard from them. I made up stories about my parents and my lifestyle back at home, yes, because it was easier than confronting the truth: they kicked me out for being me. they spat in my face and told me to never contact them again, and that they were ashamed of me. I know you understand what this feels like, but regardless of your mother's opinions, you still have her. I don't have my parents anymore.

they texted me from an unknown number to wish me a happy birthday and to ask how I was doing. after one whole year of trying to cope with the reality of having no parents, they had the audacity to reach out and wish me a happy eighteenth birthday. they wanted to know how I was doing. am I blowing this out of proportion, or is this situation as absurd as I think it is?

I haven't replied yet, but the message notification has been haunting me for a while. I have no idea what's going to happen if I reciprocate their contact. best case scenario: they take me back in and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a chance at a better college education. I say best case because it's the best financial case; however, I would rather poke my eyeballs out with a flaming hot rod than go live with my parents again, even if it's for a little while. worst case scenario: they don't reply? which would be fucked up--to reach out to someone and ask how they're doing (and perhaps genuinely wanting to know) and then breaking all contact. that would be like dangling hope on a stick in front of me and then snatching it away from me.

how did you do this with your mother? I guess I'm lucky because I never had to deal with the backlash of my parents lack of acceptance face to face whereas you had to, and still have to.

sorry, sorry. my frustration is misplaced. I'm really upset that my parents were able to, so nonchalantly, reach out to me. I have no idea what they were thinking, especially because they refused to answer my calls for days at the beginning of camp and insisted that they wanted absolutely no contact with me. I'm hurt from their actions, that's all.

before I left, you asked me why I came. I didn't have an answer for you then and... somehow, when my world is crumbling all around me, you're the only person I want to confide in and talk to. I can't explain it because I don't even understand it myself, but you're a big part of why I've chosen to continue my education in the fall. the call that I got while we were together was from the admissions office at delta confirming my place in their incoming class.

see, I want to do great things, but I wasn't dealt a very great deck of cards. for the longest time, I thought about just graduating high school (which has already been a struggle in itself) and getting a full time job in an attempt to sustain myself as a newly branded 'adult.' I realise now that, even though that may be the easiest route to pursue financially, I want to continue learning.

maybe it's because I've been hearing you (and jen) talk about how excited you are to go to ucla in the fall, or maybe it's something else, but I don't want to let the train leave the platform if I'm not on it. although delta may not have been my first choice, or even in my top hundred, a degree is only as useful as the person getting it. I wish I could join you both on the west coast, but delta community college in michigan is now my best bet.

by the way, you still have one of my favourite sweatshirts. I know I told you to keep it until we next met up, but is it weird to admit that I kind of miss it? we better make that meetup soon...

it's almost the end of the month, which means the lease on jen and I's apartment is about to be up. I've been able to look into some hostels or shelters that I can call home for the next two months, but my options don't seem promising. nevertheless, it's time to get a move on with my life. everyone else is, so why shouldn't I?

see you another time, ash.

joshua