(Eddie had definitely ruined the night. And quite possibly their relationship. They had awful fights before. More than he could even count, but this one felt far more personal and more like a break up than a bad fight. He left Richie alone for a while after that. The curse broke and his head became a lot clearer, but that didn't change what he had said or what had happened. There had been some fucked up things on both ends, but Eddie felt responsible for most of it.
He wasn't so sure he could handle seeing Richie right now. And texting felt cold and impersonal, and he didn't trust his voice for a phonecall or video. So he went back to his roots. Or rather, their roots.
Back when they were kids and had disastrous fights they usually wound up touching back through hand written letters. It was easier for both of them considering Eddie was an emotional landmine even on a good day and Richie had notorious foot-in-mouthitus. Letters let them both draft and think of what they actually wanted to say. And now was no different.
Eddie writes a lot of drafts too. There's a bin full of rolled up paper balls by his desk and some scattered across his desk. Everything sounded wrong, and he didn't even know if it would work. Eventually though he gets together a letter and folds it up carefully and tucks into an envelope. Then, like tradition called, he doodle on the envelope. Eddie was definitely not the artist of the friend group, but he had always decorated his notes to Richie. Hearts, little clouds, flowers, birds, little mindless things. His doodles hadn't improved much since he was a kid.
He winds up at Richie's place and tapes the letter to his door. Richie's name was written on the front, and the funny thing was that after all of these years Eddie still dotted Richie's is with little hearts. Exactly like when he was a kid. Though his writing had grown prettier, more mature, that much had never changed.
Eddie leaves quickly so he couldn't be caught. Inside is a couple of pages and a pressed daisy because obviously Eddie had to leave behind a flower. Even now after all these years Eddie still wasn't great at spelling or grammar, bless his heart, but at least his letter was legible.)
𝑅𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒,
The last time I wrote one of these was when I had to move from Derry. I left it in your mailbox and then that was the last time I ever really "talked" to you. I'm not sure if you ever got that. I dont really want this to be another last time.
I'm really sorry. I wasn't feeling well and my head was in a fucked up place - more than usual. I think I was cursed or something but like literally. It's not an excuse I swear I just want you to know that I was really off that night mentally.
Listen.
You don't owe me anything. At all. And I'm sorry I made it sound like you do. I shouldnt have thrown that in your face. I'm insecure as all get out but that doesn't mean I have to use that to swindle you into doing anything. I think sometimes I really am more like my mom than I ever want to be.
You're not a fuck-up either, Richie. Or if you are I am one too, and we're fuck-ups together but I don't hate that. I never could. And I'm sorry I've ever made you feel second place to anyone - especially here. You're my number one and always have been. Other guys should be jealous of YOU, you know. It's you I always compare guys to. Maybe I don't know you anymore, but I guess I know what I feel.
You were right. I just need to get my shit together and I shouldn't be dragging you with me. I'll be better, I swear. I don't want to lose you again.
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handwritten letter delivery
He wasn't so sure he could handle seeing Richie right now. And texting felt cold and impersonal, and he didn't trust his voice for a phonecall or video. So he went back to his roots. Or rather, their roots.
Back when they were kids and had disastrous fights they usually wound up touching back through hand written letters. It was easier for both of them considering Eddie was an emotional landmine even on a good day and Richie had notorious foot-in-mouthitus. Letters let them both draft and think of what they actually wanted to say. And now was no different.
Eddie writes a lot of drafts too. There's a bin full of rolled up paper balls by his desk and some scattered across his desk. Everything sounded wrong, and he didn't even know if it would work. Eventually though he gets together a letter and folds it up carefully and tucks into an envelope. Then, like tradition called, he doodle on the envelope. Eddie was definitely not the artist of the friend group, but he had always decorated his notes to Richie. Hearts, little clouds, flowers, birds, little mindless things. His doodles hadn't improved much since he was a kid.
He winds up at Richie's place and tapes the letter to his door. Richie's name was written on the front, and the funny thing was that after all of these years Eddie still dotted Richie's is with little hearts. Exactly like when he was a kid. Though his writing had grown prettier, more mature, that much had never changed.
Eddie leaves quickly so he couldn't be caught. Inside is a couple of pages and a pressed daisy because obviously Eddie had to leave behind a flower. Even now after all these years Eddie still wasn't great at spelling or grammar, bless his heart, but at least his letter was legible.)
𝑅𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒,
The last time I wrote one of these was when I had to move from Derry. I left it in your mailbox and then that was the last time I ever really "talked" to you. I'm not sure if you ever got that. I dont really want this to be another last time.
I'm really sorry. I wasn't feeling well and my head was in a fucked up place - more than usual. I think I was cursed or something but like literally. It's not an excuse I swear I just want you to know that I was really off that night mentally.
Listen.
You don't owe me anything. At all. And I'm sorry I made it sound like you do. I shouldnt have thrown that in your face. I'm insecure as all get out but that doesn't mean I have to use that to swindle you into doing anything. I think sometimes I really am more like my mom than I ever want to be.
You're not a fuck-up either, Richie. Or if you are I am one too, and we're fuck-ups together but I don't hate that. I never could. And I'm sorry I've ever made you feel second place to anyone - especially here. You're my number one and always have been. Other guys should be jealous of YOU, you know. It's you I always compare guys to. Maybe I don't know you anymore, but I guess I know what I feel.
You were right. I just need to get my shit together and I shouldn't be dragging you with me. I'll be better, I swear. I don't want to lose you again.
Love,
E