59. Letter
Letter
Splash,
The guys taped my entire locker shut today.
Every single piece of gear was completely covered in heavy-duty packing tape.
I had to spend twenty minutes hacking through it with a skate blade while the whole locker room laughed.
I played along, obviously. I did a whole dramatic comedy routine, bowing and making jokes, because that’s who I am to them.
Jackson, the fucking Joker. The guy who never takes anything seriously.
But I hated every second of it today.
I didn’t want to laugh, Splash. I wanted to tell them to shut the hell up.
I wanted to tell them that the only person whose laugh I actually care about hearing is thousands of miles away, hurting in the dark.
I’m so tired of wearing the mask. I’m so tired of being the team clown when my heart feels like it’s being crushed in a vice.
I only feel like the real me when I’m writing these to you. I don’t have to put on a show here. I can just be Jackson. The guy who misses you.
You don’t have to put on a show for me either. I know you’re locked down over there, hiding who you are from everyone around you. But I see you. I know exactly who you are, and I’m holding onto him until you come home to me, where you belong.
Jackson