Letters We Send
Hey, Cas.
It’s Christmas Day here. I wanted to write because a lot went down for you at the end of term. I’ve wanted to write to you every day, but I didn’t know what to say, and Charlie said you might want the space. Well, the space sucks.
I’m sorry about Nick. More than sorry. It’s fucking awful and you don’t deserve to go through that, and I want you to know that we’re all rooting for you, and we’re all here when you feel ready. I keep looking back on everything last term and I regret all of it. Suddenly, it makes sense. Why you were so scared about your powers. Why you had those nightmares. Why you wanted to take drugs, to take the edge off. I’m sorry I was judgemental and that I wasn’t someone you felt you could talk to about everything. If you’d have come to me, I know I could’ve helped somehow. I know it.
I’m just sorry. Plain as. I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard run. I’m sorry I was so hard on you. I didn’t mean it when I said I’d be done with us last term - when I said I’d stop covering for you, and would give up on us being friends. I’m sorry I ever said that at all because it’s not how I feel. I think I’d still be covering for you even if it killed me. Maybe that’s stupid but it’s true.
There’s a lot of bad water under the bridge, but I want us to be friends again. That’s all I want. I guess this is where I’m meant to say that it’s okay if you don’t want that. Maybe it is okay if you don’t want that, I don’t know. My head’s been kind of a mess about everything. You said stuff last term that was shitty, and I said stuff too, but I always cared about you even if I didn’t show it good. And maybe you still care too- because you took the fall for me last term, even though you shouldn’t have, and even though you didn’t have to. You shouldn’t have done that and I’ll make it right. I promise I’ll make it right.
Ultimately, I’m sending this letter as an olive branch. It’s Christmas Day. Isn’t that when you’re supposed to do these things? You’re supposed to bear your soul and right your wrongs and all that. Like in the muggle movies.
Well, here I am, man. Writing a freaking letter with all my feelings and apologies and hopes. Like a freaking girl. I’m not good at this kind of stuff, you know that. But I’m trying. I’ll quit rambling. Merry Christmas, Cas.
There’s no pressure to reply to this. I figure, you can burn it if you don’t wanna read it. But it would be nice to hear from you if you’d be okay to write. But I understand if not. You’ve always been my best friend. And I’m grateful for the role you’ve played in my life, no matter what happens from here.
Merry Christmas,
Dean