timing : stozier

45

august 15/16

cw: he talks about vomiting and small mention of suicide

dearest diary,

i am kidding. i don't write in a diary. this is a journal. i swear to god. not important. sorry.

i feel sick to my stomach. and i think if i talk to him, i might throw up. so i haven't. the door is shut. the window is locked. i told my parents not to answer unless they knock. even then, check who it is. only answer the movers. stan always uses the doorbell. the movers knock. i was going to leave him some kind of note. i wrote it out and everything. reminded me a little of a suicide note, which wasn't the intent. it's not like i'm dying. well... no. 

hi,

my parents didn't take my phone. i just don't want to look at it until bill has explained what happened.
i'll miss you the most, stan, if that isn't obvious. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i'm leaving. i'm sorry we ended on the damp note of me screaming at you about attempting suicide.
i had to tell someone. i'm sorry i can't kiss you goodbye. i'm sorry i didn't tell you. and biggest of all, i'm sorry i have to block you. yikes! NOT MY CHOICE, by the way.
the biggest thing about moving to canada was that my parents were very insistent on getting to know what i'm doing on my phone, all the time. they told me i had to delete any kind of contact with anyone here.
that's got to be some kind of child abuse, probably. i'm really going off the grid. someone could kidnap me and it would be about on schedule.
nonetheless (i picked up saying nonetheless constantly from you, are you proud?) i'm so sorry.
anyway, not the point of this note.
ironically, this note is more along the lines of 'i'm in love with you'. and i am. in love with you. have been for a while, honestly. you know that. you always have. i didn't want you to say it. i didn't want you to say it and then have me disappear. if you said it, it might have been true. that's scary. 
even while i'll be shipped off to boarding school in canada, all boys, where they're probably all secretly gay anyway, i'll only be thinking of kissing you. might kiss a boy or two, pretending they're you.
either way, i don't know how i'll survive without telling you every detail of every minute of my day, or playfully arguing with you about literally anything. i don't know how i'll survive without your window to sneak into. i don't know how i'll survive without my tongue down your fucking throat, stanley. okay, i wrote that last part in just for you to roll your eyes. did you?
will you miss me? i don't know for how much longer you'll be stuck in derry, but when you get out, i promise, we'll find our way back to each other, stan. curse of a town, but soon we'll be out of it.
okay. i rambled, my bad. my point: i love you, i'm sorry. god that's pathetic.
love, richie.

but i tore it up.

yeah, boo all you want, but i would have vomited on his doorstep before i could put the envelope there. and i couldn't have let stan see me. and i absolutely could not let my parents read that. are you kidding me? oh baby, hell no.

and yes, you're right, i should have told them. i should have told him. i know, i fucking know. i haven't even blocked stan yet, i can't bring myself to. i accidentally opened some of his texts and he noticed. i really have quite the stomach ache. i feel like chidi, but multiplied by fourty. obviously, i'm not trying to escape hell, but aren't i? man, this is insane.

i wish i was in stanny's arms right now, if i'm brutally honest. he makes such a good big spoon on the occasion that he is clingy enough to be the big spoon, that is. i love the thumb thing. you know? the thumb thing when they rub their thumb on your hand—yeah you probably know what i mean. anyway, whenever stan does that i honest to god feel so many butterflies in my stomach. it's been over a year since he first kissed me and i get butterflies every time. i could never imagine that saying 'i love you' to him would ever feel that good. i feel so foolish for not being able to tell him.

am i breaking his heart? i realize i'm probably not as important to stan as he is to me, but you know, he's said he loves me back. god, this is such a fucking garbage situation. 

my phone keeps buzzing. i can tell they're all going to stan's. i stay out of the windows in my house. i'd rather them think i disappeared at first than knowing that i left, purposely not telling them. i know i'm hurting them, FUCK. it's too late now, i can't tell them now. i told bill to tell them. he's not very good at being sly. probably should've told eddie instead, but he would've caved because he would think i'm being an ultimate douche, which i am.

i guess i don't know what to do. i'm tempted to text stan back and tell him i'm sorry but all of my guts are going to remove themselves. my innards will become exnards. have you ever read the short story guts? don't. i'm rambling i apologize, i'm known for that.

i'm scared, honestly. what if it's a boarding school of patrick hockstetters? i'll die, man. are there gays in canada? do they exist? what if? WHAT IF???? 

okay. i'm done with yammering. with the jibber jabber. i feel better, but i still can't talk to him.

i kinda wish he would stop texting me, but i also never want him to. i never want to stop hearing him call me rich, or watching him intertwine our hands together. fuck. FUCK!!!

i want to cry.

oh well.

love,
richie