To: Adelaide (adelaidelegaux@cci.edu)
CC: Group: Student Body (student.body@cci.edu)
From: Leon Shaw (leonshaw@cci.edu)
Subject: Hey,

Adelaide,

I wish I knew what to say. How to say it, rather Why couldn’t you just call me, text me? I’m sorry. I’m late with this, but I guess I’m late with everything. What does this change, right? Captain-To-Late. Heh. Poor time for jokes, I guess.

There are a hundred things I could say, and it is funny how none of them come to mind. I can’t even blame alcohol or drugs, I feel rather sober right now; heh, first time this week. It has been a pretty shitty week, actually. I think the entire school is in a state of shock, and utter disbelief. And I don’t know why you did it, I don’t think I ever well. Probably wouldn’t even matter if I did, because as much as I think I somehow understand, I just can’t wrap my brain around it.

People care about you, you know? Erica, Michi, Hunter, Gregoire…. I mean, maybe you thought no one would care, but I don’t know why. There were always people there for you, waiting I guess. Maybe they didn’t understand, or just got busy, you know? Sort of shit, what you did. Michi thinks she failed you, because she was focused on being happy, but the thing is I don’t believe that. I don’t think any of them failed you. You know why? I mean, I guess you do. But, hear me out, okay?

I ruin things. It is like some sort of karmic disease. Everything I ever touch goes sour eventually, and people around me inherently become unhappy. I am a festering wound, gangrene is sure to set in, so really the only thing left is to cut me out. I- fuck I don’t even know what I am saying. guess what I was trying to do was just that. You deserved better than me, you have. I couldn’t understand, really, why you ever wanted to love me so bad anyway. I mean, did you really think you couldn’t do better than me?

Actually, that is a whole other subject. Right now, I just want to tell you want I was always too afraid to tell you before. I’m selfish, and I thought that if I could just do this one thing, if I could fall in love and whatever else, that I could fix me. Everything just kept getting worse, and worse though, and nothing ever fixed itself. I can’t even explain it, except- no, even that is a lie. Heh.

I’ve always been different, particularly from Gael. I can’t tell you how I knew it, but I could feel it the way someone can feel the difference between night and day even if they blind. It is just something you know with such certainty that there is no disputing it. But it wasn’t until I was fourteen, I guess, that I realized what that was. All I remember was that the holiday before ninth started, I found myself in England doing something I should never have done. Or maybe I should have, I don’t know. But I found myself wanting to kiss this friend of mine, Alfie.

Heh. I know what you’re thinking. You’re sat there going, ‘what the fuck, Leon, that’s like some boy’s name.’ Well, yeah, it is. And I liked it, but when I went home to my Uncle’s, I was sat at tea and listening to them talk. I don’t remember what started it, but I always suspected Bruce or George started it; that they’d seen me staring stupidly at Alfie, or I don’t know. I guess it didn’t matter what started it, but that it happened. They sat there, my uncle and his family, talking about nothing but how ‘fags are sick in the head’, ‘poofters needed to be cured’, and other shit. I can’t even remember it all.

That isn’t even the important thing, right now. I can imagine your face as you read this, caught somewhere between disbelief and rage. And if you are thinking it was just a phase, you shouldn’t. I mean, I just- I don’t even know how to say it. I sure as hell can’t say it to your face. I’m gay.

I just thought, selfishly thought, that when you came around junior year and we started to hang out, to date? I thought to myself- this is how you cure being gay. Because as long as I never kissed a boy, as long as I never did ‘gay’ things, I wouldn’t be one. Right? That is how it works, isn’t it? I thought so, I thought I could hate it enough to just make it not real, and make it go away. And I thought, I guess, that if I could just get you to shag me I’d be straight.

Only things don’t work like that. And no amount of me begging for your forgiveness can ever give you back everything I’ve taken. Everything just started to roll. I can’t take it back, especially now. Captain-too-late, you know? Pretty sure I was sorted into the wrong house.

I killed you, Addy. I killed you because I’m a selfish coward, who doesn’t even have the decency to cry. Instead I was angry, but even that is gone. I don’t have the energy to be angry, anymore. Everyone else thinks it is their fault somehow, but I know. I could have stopped it all. If I wasn’t gay, I could have loved you the way you needed me too. I wish there was a rewind button. I wish you’d never met me, found some other bloke that was better for you.

I mean, I’m an utter piece of shit. You couldn’t find a better example if you tried. I fucked with your head, slept with you, and then ran away. Worst yet? I cheated too; with a guy. I don’t even know why. It just happened, and then it continued to happen. Can you hate yourself more for being happy? I don’t know if I am happy or not, anymore.

Why can’t I feel what everyone else feels? I shouldn’t be able to get out of bed, in misery. I don’t know why I’m not. Everyone’s gone anyway, I should be upset about that too, shouldn’t I? I feel guilty, I think. No, I know. Everyone I’ve ever been friends with, I’ve fucked over. I even pushed Janis out. I should feel sad, or something.

Shit, I’m all about me again. Fuck. Shit. Fuck Fuck. FUCK.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry. I deserve everything I’ve gotten in life.

Farewell,
Leon