If We'll Ever Be Okay Again
Ezrah,
This is ridiculous. I miss you, and it goes without saying that Jude does too. I think he’s going a little mad, in fact.
I went over to his place again today. He’s not doing any better, really. He drank two cups of coffee in an hour, and it took him twenty-seven minutes of me being there to just to say something. I know because I had nothing else to do but stare at the ticking clock.
I think you should write to him. I love receiving your letters every week, Ezrah, but I think we both know that Jude needs them more. This has gone on long enough already.
I ended up staying the night with him.
He barely spoke, but at one point, he turned to me with this weird look on his face and said, “I was thinking I should visit him, but I wouldn’t know what to say.”
I told him that if he did visit you, I would go with him and we could figure it all out together. He said he would think about it, but sort of withdrew into himself again after that.
Here’s the thing, Ezrah, and I think you know this, but Jude always has an answer to everything. That’s just how he is.
When we were eight, I told him that I couldn’t sleep at night because of monsters. He told me I should move my bed next to the window so I can see the stars. It worked- you’ve seen my room. My bed is still right next to the window.
We were eleven when I told Jude that I didn’t like any boys. According to him, I didn’t need to.
“There’s plenty of time left to like boys and girls,” he had said, “Right now, it’s enough to like monopoly.”
He never had any trouble figuring out he was gay either. He just sort of knew. He told me when we were fifteen, and I bought him chocolate chip ice-cream after, and that was that.
Then, there was you. He knew he had to have you the minute he saw you, and he ended up getting what he wanted.
The point is that this is the first time in Jude’s life that he is so clueless, and maybe it is the frustration of not knowing what to do that is getting to him more than anything else. He loved you, and you hurt someone he cared for.
Granted, his father deserved it for everything he said and did, I probably would’ve done the same thing, in your place—but Jude can never bring himself to hate the man. He didn’t know you were capable of something like this, and he feels like he never knew you at all. And now that you’re gone without a word to him, he isn’t even sure if you want him anymore.
I don’t think Jude has even processed that you’re in prison. You’ve been here with him, every day for three years, and now, all of a sudden, you’re not. He’s been waiting for a letter, an apology, anything—I’ve seen him check his mailbox obsessively, ask the mailman if he’s got anything for him. I haven’t told him that you’ve been writing to me all this time, so he thinks you’ve just given up, or something.
I’m sorry this letter isn’t the usual sunshine and rainbows. I know everything’s crap there already, but I just had to get all this out. I don’t know how much you can fix, Ezrah, but I know that you two love each other, and it’s worth a try.
Write to him. He’s been waiting for too long. It’ll help him see things a little clearer.
I hope you’re okay. And I’m hoping we can visit you very soon. If Jude isn’t up to it right now, I’ll come by myself. What are your visiting hours?
I swear I won’t be this serious and preachy in my next letter, if you ever write to me again. I miss you.
All the love,
Savannah.
This is ridiculous. I miss you, and it goes without saying that Jude does too. I think he’s going a little mad, in fact.
I went over to his place again today. He’s not doing any better, really. He drank two cups of coffee in an hour, and it took him twenty-seven minutes of me being there to just to say something. I know because I had nothing else to do but stare at the ticking clock.
I think you should write to him. I love receiving your letters every week, Ezrah, but I think we both know that Jude needs them more. This has gone on long enough already.
I ended up staying the night with him.
He barely spoke, but at one point, he turned to me with this weird look on his face and said, “I was thinking I should visit him, but I wouldn’t know what to say.”
I told him that if he did visit you, I would go with him and we could figure it all out together. He said he would think about it, but sort of withdrew into himself again after that.
Here’s the thing, Ezrah, and I think you know this, but Jude always has an answer to everything. That’s just how he is.
When we were eight, I told him that I couldn’t sleep at night because of monsters. He told me I should move my bed next to the window so I can see the stars. It worked- you’ve seen my room. My bed is still right next to the window.
We were eleven when I told Jude that I didn’t like any boys. According to him, I didn’t need to.
“There’s plenty of time left to like boys and girls,” he had said, “Right now, it’s enough to like monopoly.”
He never had any trouble figuring out he was gay either. He just sort of knew. He told me when we were fifteen, and I bought him chocolate chip ice-cream after, and that was that.
Then, there was you. He knew he had to have you the minute he saw you, and he ended up getting what he wanted.
The point is that this is the first time in Jude’s life that he is so clueless, and maybe it is the frustration of not knowing what to do that is getting to him more than anything else. He loved you, and you hurt someone he cared for.
Granted, his father deserved it for everything he said and did, I probably would’ve done the same thing, in your place—but Jude can never bring himself to hate the man. He didn’t know you were capable of something like this, and he feels like he never knew you at all. And now that you’re gone without a word to him, he isn’t even sure if you want him anymore.
I don’t think Jude has even processed that you’re in prison. You’ve been here with him, every day for three years, and now, all of a sudden, you’re not. He’s been waiting for a letter, an apology, anything—I’ve seen him check his mailbox obsessively, ask the mailman if he’s got anything for him. I haven’t told him that you’ve been writing to me all this time, so he thinks you’ve just given up, or something.
I’m sorry this letter isn’t the usual sunshine and rainbows. I know everything’s crap there already, but I just had to get all this out. I don’t know how much you can fix, Ezrah, but I know that you two love each other, and it’s worth a try.
Write to him. He’s been waiting for too long. It’ll help him see things a little clearer.
I hope you’re okay. And I’m hoping we can visit you very soon. If Jude isn’t up to it right now, I’ll come by myself. What are your visiting hours?
I swear I won’t be this serious and preachy in my next letter, if you ever write to me again. I miss you.
All the love,
Savannah.
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