Letters To Myself
Walking through the halls of Bretigon high never failed to remind Harry Tomlinson of his own high school days. He was a fairly popular kid until he moved school and struggled to make friends.. From that day forward he was an outcast.
From the age of 13 Will was an anxious teen wondering where the next beating was coming from. He hid at lunch and at break. He never ate at school for fear of being called fat or for fear of his food being stolen. Let me be clear, Harry Tomlinson was NOT a fat child. If anything he was too thin, his high metabolism stopped him from putting on weight and his dance practice made sure any weight he did put on was built into muscle pretty quickly.
Now walking down the halls Harry thinks about how depressed he got, how much he wanted to just disappear, how often he truly thought of ending it all. When he looks back now he looks back knowing that he got past it, he got through it and he’s better because of it. He’s happy now, he’s married and he’s living the life he’s always wanted to. He proved those stuck up bullies wrong and he came out on top.
Harry had had a long day, he was tired and he just longed to go home and have dinner with his husband. He drove home as quickly as he could and parked the car hap hazardously just so he could get in quicker. Louis had taken the day off because he had built up holidays and was desperate to clean out the hallway cupboard.
Harry entered the house to find it quiet. After he removed his coat and shoes he entered the living room to see a familiar looking, old, envelope on the coffee table. He couldn’t quite place where he’d seen it before but he knew he had. He tried not to think too much about it as he placed his work bag in the living room and went to find Louis. As he entered the kitchen he saw Louis waiting.
“Harry,” he said gently, “I need to talk to you… Please come and sit in the living room.”
As Louis led the way to the sofa Harry knew it had to have something to do with that all too familiar envelope.
“I found this when I was going through the cupboard. It was in one of your boxes marked high school.” Louis explained.
It was then Harry knew exactly what the envelope was.
“I wrote it when I was seventeen.” He cut in.
Louis quietened knowing he was about to tell him what she wanted to know. He reassuringly took his hand and held it tight, knowing this would be hard for him.
“I’ve told you about how hard my high school experience was before. I got harassed every day and no one ever did anything about it. When I was seventeen I had fallen so far, my grades were slipping and everything was spiralling so far out of control that I snapped and when one of the jocks came after me verbally I fought back. I had so much pent up rage that I just attacked him. I just remember there was so much blood, both mine and his. But he came out worse than I did and so when I finally realised what I’d done I just left. I cried as I drove home and I just… I was done… I knew I couldn’t show my face at that school ever again because all of his friends would be after me and they would kill me. I was ready to end my life. I wrote this letter when I got home and then I went into the shed in the back garden and I… I…” Harry had gotten so far but he choked up. It was hard to relive his worst moments like this. “I slit my wrists and I just let it bleed. My father found me pretty quickly since he got home from work half an hour after I got home. I was rushed to hospital and went through intensive care and suicide watch before going through in-patient care for months. I missed my graduation and had to repeat my senior year but I got better.”
Harry finished and finally looked up. Both he and Louis were crying and neither was ashamed of it. They just sat and cried together.
Later that night Louis got into bed next to Harry who was reading. There was a beat of silence before Louis turned to Harry.
“C… can I see them?” Louis asked shakily.
Harry looked away from him before saying,
“You’ve already seen them.”
Louis looked shocked,
“What do you mean?” He responded,
“You’ve… you’ve seen them.” Harry spoke slowly, rolling up the sleeves of his navy pyjama shirt.
Louis was shocked. Yes, there they were, the faded but still evident scars, however, when he’d asked Harry about them years ago he’d brushed it off as a kitchen accident and Louis had believed him.
“T… These?” He stuttered,
Harry just nodded.
Louis gently lifted his arms and kissed the two scars on each of Harry’s arms.
“I love you Harry. I’m a little sad that you didn’t tell me this sooner but it’s fine. I love you, I love you so so so much. You are amazing and you are the best thing that ever happened to me.” Louis was once again crying.
“I… I love you to Louis. You have no idea how much.” Harry was also crying.
“So, I need to ask.” Started Louis after a moment, “You’re better right? You don’t feel like that anymore?”
Harry thought carefully before saying.
“I still take anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills every now and again, just when things get stressful but, I’m fine Lou. I would never do this again.”
He gestured to his wrists.
“Good. I’m so glad.” Smiled Louis gently, “I love you so much H.”
The two of them shared a gentle kiss before Harry spoke.
“I love you too Lou.”
For the next few days Harry had this thought in the back of his mind. He’d told Louis he got better. He didn’t have thoughts like those anymore. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d been untruthful. He wasn’t sure but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Without Louis knowing he’d taken the suicide letter with him to work the next day. When he had time alone in his office he opened it and read it. He relieved every scar when he read that letter. For the first time in a long time he truly looked at his arms where those scars were, they were still visible, they still ran deep. He thought about that black day and how he felt. After thinking over the situation over and over again he felt different. But it was fine, he’s better right? He got past this over twenty years ago. Surely he’s just over thinking things. He’s fine. Right?