“Forget about your name, forget about who you are, and just love me forever, until you die, and die for me, and suffer for me…”

-Cecille Guillemain

“Blue Earrings”

Fiction. Based on a True Gift From You.

By Sparrow

All journal entries are inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.

Dear D,

You know I care about you more than anything and anyone. Sometimes, I fear I care a little too much. I know you care about me. It’s just, sometimes, I fear it’s not quite enough. I’m not saying you don’t care or you don’t show me you care, because you do. I just think that we express ourselves in different ways, and my methods of expression are more blatant. 

You physically take care of me. You always make sure I’m safe and protected. You never let me go hungry. You never let me pay for anything, even though you have to work long and hard to provide for yourself. And that’s the confusing paradox that I find myself in. You never really knew your father because you only met him once or twice as a child. You don’t even know if he’s still alive. Since your mom passed away, you’ve been completely on your own. As you told me when we met, you “have no safety net.” You have no financial support from anyone besides distant relatives who send you $100 for your birthday. You work for your entire income. I understand this. And it weighs on me. I wish I could do something to help. I’ve offered to help on months where you thought you wouldn’t make rent. You got really upset with me. You managed to make rent. 

We met last spring in British Literature. You were really smart and sat in the front row. I sat in the row behind you and had a crush on you for the first month of class. When there was an optional peer review, I went to class, hoping you were there. Only you and a few others showed up, so I immediately asked if you wanted to exchange papers. You were wearing a shirt with wolves howling at the moon. I remember wondering if you could tell I had a huge crush. We had a nice conversation that day and started talking more after classes. 

One day, we talked in the hall after class for an hour. We naturally migrated outside and towards the campus coffee shop where you offered to buy me coffee. After another hour or so of conversation, you asked for my phone number. It was the Friday after Valentines. I remember because I had work, and I was so worried that if you decided to text me, I wouldn’t be able to respond for a long time. I ended up being able to respond. That night, we watched Hercules at the same time from our different houses. I remember you stopped replying and I got worried. You texted me the next morning and said you had fallen asleep. We talked all weekend. When we came back to school on Monday, we went on our first date—sushi. You had never eaten sushi before, and you ordered three California rolls. I told you it was going to be way too much, and when it came to the table, you asked if it had mayo in it. I laughed, but you were completely serious. You hated it, so I went home with a huge box of leftover California rolls.

After our first date, we talked about going out more. We got to know each other more. I found out that you were completely on your own, while I was still living at home with both parents. You had to fully support yourself, while I only worked to pay for gas and food. You had been raised in an open-belief and relaxed home, while I was raised in a very conservative Christian home. You had pretty much been allowed to do whatever you wanted as a child and teenager, while I still had very limited freedom and autonomy. The beginning of our relationship was a huge struggle for me. I had to constantly reason with myself. You were smart and handsome and kind, yet you weren’t religious. 

As a full-time college student, you applied yourself to your studies to earn straight A’s. We had classes for three consecutive semesters together. We’ve worked through so much as a couple. We’ve fought, and sometimes it seemed we wouldn’t make it through. School was stressful and we both worked at least 2 jobs—you worked 3. We managed to finish school on the Dean’s List with straight A’s. Now it’s summer, and I’ve graduated. You still have one more year of school. And I’m going to graduate school. I won’t be going far, though. I’ll be close to you. I just started a new job 5 minutes away from your house—an hour and a half from my parents’ house. I’m planning on moving out in the next month or so—if my roommate situation ever works out. However, I’m becoming more optimistic. 

Lately, you’ve been a perfect gentleman. You finally quit one job, so now you’re working 2 and able to sleep at night and have a more normal life. You’re less tense and stressed and you’ve been kinder. You went shopping the other day and said, “I got you something,” and I was so surprised. It’s not that you don’t take care of me and buy me food and things we need, but unless it’s a holiday or my birthday, you haven’t outright bought me a gift. I was so curious about what you got me. When I went to your house a few days later, you gave me a little bag. I opened it to find a beautiful pair of blue dangly earrings inside! It was so thoughtful. 

I’ve been writing this letter for over a month even though it’s not very long. Reading it from beginning to end shows me how much more loving we are becoming and how much better our relationship is developing. Thank you for expressing yourself better lately, and assuring me of your affection. 

You know I love you.


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