Page 130 of Sapphire Spring

“Thank you for bringing this to me, Pete Who Is WorkingOnNot Being An Asshole.”

“Thanks for, you know, beingthe reasonmy son started cleaning up his act.”

“I’m not sure I’m the reason he went to rehab.”

“Maybe not. But he’s sure as hell excited to see you when hegets out.”

Then PeteWortherwas gone, andNaser gave in to temptation and opened the notebook’s front cover. His eyes wentto the title of whatever this was. The wordsWho I Could Have Beenwere crossed out with a single line, and above them, written in the samehandwriting were the wordsWho We Could Be.

DearNas,

I guess this is going to be a letter, but it’s going to bea long one because I’m going to be here for a while. Calling it an essaydoesn’t feel right.

It’s Day #1 at Pine Rise, and right now I’m writing thisbecause I can’t stop seeing the look in your eyes when I left you at SapphireCove. It’s haunting me because I know you were already saying goodbye forever.Maybe that’s what you need to do. I’m not sure.

I’m only sure of one thing right now.

I haven’t done enough.

I haven’t done enough to make up for what I really didback in high school. And I’m not just talking about being a jackass to you andnot doing enough to stop He Who Shall Not Be Named (HWSNBN for short) and Tim.When I say I still haven’t done enough I mean I haven’t done enough to show youthe depth of my feelings for you then, and how hard I worked to shove them downinto deep and dark places.

It all started the first time I laid eyes on you. It wasa day that changed me. When you entered my life, you brought true beauty intoit for the first time, and in such a new and unexpected package I realized whatI had called beautiful before wasreally justappealing. Your walk. The way you looked at me with that flash of interest beforeyou tried to cover it up with a furrowed brow that made you look like agrown-up. I even laughed a little under my breath when you did it because Ithought it was so cute.

I don’t think I’ve told you this yet, but when I walkedup and put my arm around you in the hallway that day, I didn’t do it because Iwas planning to hurt you or embarrass you. I literally lost control. I had aneed to be near you I couldn’t hold back. For thirty seconds, I stoppedthinking about what everyone else thought. And what I can’t stop thinking aboutnow is what would have happened if it had been longer than thirty seconds? Whatif I’d gone a week or a month or maybe the rest of high school withoutlistening to my fear? Who could I have been for you then?

What if I’d never looked back to see how Tim and HWSNBNwere reacting to what I’d done? What if we’d kept walking down the halltogether and I’d left my arm looped around your shoulders so you could feelthat what I felt was serious? What if instead of pushing you into that locker,I’d asked you some of the questions that haunted my sleep in the days after?You weren’t the first guy I’d had the hots for, but my desire for anyone, maleor female, had never come with that much curiosity before.

I wanted to know if you slept in pajamas or boxers. Iwanted to know if you ate sushi with chopsticks. I wanted to know if youlaughed out loud at the funny parts of a movie. I wanted to know if you snored.I wanted to know what your neck smelled like and tasted like. I wanted to knowhow you kissed.

You’re right. Ours wasn’t a long-distance romance.Still, you might be surprised to know I learned as much about you back then asI could. But I did it from the shadows and without ever showing you my trueface, and that’s on me, and now there’s a price to pay.

It could have been this.

In the hallway at school that day, I ask you what youlike to do forfunand you tell me how you love to goto the Back Bay and watch airplanes take off from John Wayne Airport. You tellme how you’re obsessed with airplanes, but sometimes it feels unfair becausemost plane nerds on the Internet are all about military aviation and what youlove is commercial planes, but everyone on the message boards wants to talkabout bombers and fighter planes and not the advantages of the 777 over theA350. (I heard you and Melony Chen laughing about this one day at lunch while Iwas pretending to listen to whateverbullshitHWSNBNwas saying at the time.)

Then I ask you if one day soon you’ll take me to yourfavoriteplaceand you say yes.

Dinner time. Back soon.

Okay. It’s Day #2, and I just found out I can’t sendletters apparently, so I’m going to have to hold on to this until I’m out.

Let’s talk about the first date we never had.

Here’s the thing.

I love to think I’d be all sweet and lovey-dovey on ourwalk, but I think there’s a good chance I try to get your pants off, even ifit’s awkward and I do a bad job ofitand youeventually ask me to stop. But the truth is, I used to drive myself into themattress some mornings thinking about how bad I wanted you. But maybe not.Maybe as we walk side by side through the sunset, I realize I’ve only pushedthrough the layers of fear that might cause me to be a bully indenial, andgoing the rest of the distance still feels scary.I’m humbled. I’m in the presence of feelings so significant and monumental I’msuddenly cautious. And nervous. Maybe my heart roars as I reach out for yourhand and interlace my fingers in yours so all your suspicions about myintentions can be confirmed. I do my best to watch you as you watch the planesrise into the sky, and it’s the most intimate thing in the world, seeingsomeone else’s joy and not saying or doing anything to interrupt it.

But when we get back to the car, Idefinitelykissyou.

All right, off to another happy fun day of rehab…

It’s Day #5. I had to skip a few days of writing becausethere’s a lot of intense work we do here. But this letter is my reward fordoing all their 12-step worksheets that are sometimes like having your teeth pulled.Finding “your own part in it” is what they call it, and it’s not exactly fun.I’m learning a lot. About myself. Which is apparently the idea.

Sosince our imaginaryfirst date over ten years ago went so well, it’s time for me to take you to oneof my favorite spots, the bluffs down in San Onofre. It’s all open beach andendless ocean, and it’s one of the few places I can go where my head iscompletely quiet. With you, it’s something even better, something both peacefuland exciting. When I try to take my friends there, they talk the wholetimeor they want to drink beer or they just want to talkabout the military helicopters flying overhead to Camp Pendleton. But when youand I reach the bluffs above Trails Head Beach, it’ll just be the two of us andthe world below. Maybe it will feel like we’re flying. Which is the perfectmetaphor for what we’re doing. Flying above fear and other people’sexpectations for us, their judgments.

And then maybe I try to get your pants off again and youmake some joke about how our first time being naked together isn’t going to beon a frigging bluff.

Time for bed. I brought an extra pillow and I sleep withit against my chest and imagine it’s you.

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