Work Text:
December 3
Dear Etho,
You gave me your sweater today. You IDIOT. IT WASN’T THAT CHILLY!! WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?? It was like, what, 10o C?? Didn’t need to give me your stupid sweater. Sure I said I was cold, but I didn’t actually think you would give me a bloomin sweater… Well, I guess you had your comically big puffer jacket thing you wear like everyday, and I bet that sweater was like… one layer out of like a thousand.
Your sweater did smell really nice. Maple syrup and pine oak with a little bit of snow. Maybe the snow was because I threw a bunch of snowballs at you.. but I kinda expected that of you cus you’re so Canadian for what lol. It’s not like your subtle scent was familiar because I would always like it when I would sleep on your shoulder on purpose and I would conveniently face your neck/ear/hair, noooo whattttt???
Oh but of fucking course you had to add salt to the wound in the state of my panic and had to say YOUR sweater looked better on ME than it did YOU. WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT YOU STUPID IDIOT.
Fuck. FUUUCCKKKK. You have no idea how flustered I was. I’m pretty sure I was as red as a tomato. Thanks to the cold for being there for the blame.
Maybe I did like wearing your sweater… ugh no, it was ugly. Your stupid ugly, annoying sweater. Your stupid basic, plain navy blue sweater because you’re so boring and wear the same outfit everyday but add a layer everyday till winter.
Bloody hell. I like you a lot.
Love,
- Joel
—
December 4
My Dear, Etho,
I saw how your eyes naturally landed on him. How your head followed him when he ran past, looking the happiest as he usually is. It must be muscle memory for you, isn’t it? I saw how your body instinctively straightened itself, your fists tensing in nervousness. Meanwhile I just stood there, with your stupid sweater from the day before because my stupid ass brought it to give it back but of course you said to keep it because you said I looked good in it. So while I watched you fall in love with him for who knows how many times, I stood there with YOUR sweater, watching you watch someone else that isn’t me.
“What a sight for sore eyes. He’s brighter than a blue sky, isn’t he?” THE FUCKING AUDACITY. I'M RIGHT BESIDE YOU, HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT??? YOU DON'T KNOW HOW OFFENDED I WAS. While you were off mesmerized, I was bloomin on the verge of tears. I don’t know why, but I was, okay?
What did I even expect? Of course you wouldn’t like me. I’m not as pretty, handsome, amazing, determined, funny, and loveable as him. He’s everything I’m not. He has everything. Your love is everything. I say to myself, “you gave me your sweater, so I still have a chance!” It’s just polyester. Not real fucking love you gave me. Just a fabric, an item, a material you gave me.
It’s always been him, hasn’t it? Bdubs. He wasn’t there, but he always has been in some fucking way. Why do I bother? Why do I try? Why do I try to win a race I know I can’t win? A race that I know I already lost before it even started?
Did that stop me from doing it anyway? No.
I wish I was Bdubs.
Love,
- Joel
—
December 6
My dearest Etho,
Fuck. Stupid stupid stupid. Fuck. Shit. This is so dumb. Why do I care?
You guys were holding hands. You even had your arm over his shoulder. Fuck. You guys looked compatible, or whatever. Like you’re meant to be. Your fingers perfectly aligned with the indents of his knuckles. Your arm snuggled too perfectly around his shoulder. Like you were made for each other.
But it can’t be. I’m your soulmate. I’m the one quite literally made for you. Even if it was a joke. I don’t know what it was to you, but it wasn’t a joke to me.
But honestly how could I hate Bdubs? He didn’t do anything bad to me. Except in this instance. Or maybe it’s jealousy and envy instead of hate. Bdubs is nice. He’s funny. But I really want him dead right now. And gone. I hate him as much as horses. That’s how much I hate him right now. And you know what, another red flag: he LOVES horses. Like why? Horses are dumb and stupid. There’s nothing to like about them.
I don’t care anymore. But I do.
And that’s what hurts.
Love
- Joel
—
December 7
My dearest Etho,
You asked me for your sweater back. Why?
Love,
- Joel
—
December 12
My dearest Etho,
I see why you asked for it back now. For him. Anything for him. You asked for your sweater back and had the fucking audacity to give it to Bdubs right after. At least not right in front of me. I say to myself, “it’s just polyester. Like for me, it doesn’t mean anything, right?” With you and him, everything means something.
You make me sick.
Love,
- Joel
—
December 13
My dearest, Etho,
Etho, I love you. And you know that. So why do this to me?
I don’t know why I love you. Not in a bad way. You know what I mean.
I can’t think. Ugh.
It’s my fault. I’m just stupid and dumb.
I love you Etho. It just sucks that you don’t love me back. It sucks I’m not Bdubs.
I wish you loved me back. I wish I was Bdubs.
Despite everything,
Love,
- Joel