Coming Clean, chapter 3
*Note*
This part of the story is in first person POV (Billie Joe's)
I spread the letters out in front of me on the living room floor. There were four of them in all.
I picked one up, the one I had opened before, and slid the letter out. Carefully unfolding it, I looked at the date at the top. It said April 23, 1986. Jamie's fourteenth birthday. I remembered that day. Me and Mike had surprised Jamie with a party for the three of us. We had spent all day jumping in and out of the pool, watching movies, and eating way too much pizza. Jamie tripped when she was running around the pool and skinned her knee. I carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I cleaned her knee and put a band-aid on it. Then I had kissed her forehead, carried her back down, and thrown her in the pool. Jamie disappeared for about ten minutes while Mike and I were in the pool, then came back down the stairs like nothing had ever happened. Had she gone away to write this letter? And why to me?
I brushed his finger over the date at the top, the memory fading from my mind. Then I looked down at the actual letter part. It was short, due to the attention span of a fourteen year old. I began to read it. After all, it was meant for me, wasn't it?
Dear Billie Joe, April 23, 1986
What is happening to me? I've never felt this way around you before, and it scares me. I never loved you before, but now I do. This isn't supposed to happen. We said best friends forever, but I don't want to be just friends.
Why is this happening to me? I don't want to love you. I just want to go back to how we were. I never wanted this. What do I do? I want to tell you so bad it hurts. I want you to feel the same as me.
I'm sorry for causing this complication between us, BJ.
But I love you.
Love,
Jaime
This was deep for a fourteen year old. I carefully folded the letter back up and put it in the envelope. Jaime had loved me. So much that she had to get away just to get some of it out of her system in a letter.
But fourteen was a confusing year. It could have easily been a school crush.
I couldn't help but think of what she said though. I don't want to love you. I never wanted this. I want you to feel the same as me. Had she really felt that way?
I picked up the second envelope. The date on this letter was December 25, 1989. That was Christmas, the year we were all seventeen. Mike's friend John had invited us to come up to his cabin in Mammoth. That was the year that I had Sara. Sara, my girlfriend. I had brought her up with me, Mike, and Jamie. Jamie hadn't talked to me much on that trip, and I had wondered why. Wondered what I had done.
Dear Billie Joe, December 25, 1989
I want you as mine, but I can't have you. Why did you bring Sara? Can't you tell she's a whore?
Why did you have to do this to me? Why did you have to make me fall in love with you, Bill. I'm losing sight of what's real, and what's not. In my dreams, you love me, and we are happy. But in reality, you love Sara, and I'm just a friend.
Sometimes I wish that I could just dream forever. It's the only time I truly happy. Sometimes, I think about killing myself. What's the point of living if you don't love me back? You're the only thing in this world that means anything to me, Billie Joe. But I can't have you, so what's the point?
I'm so fucking angry with you. You brought her. Well Merry Fucking Christmas to you to Billie.
I'm angry, but I can't stop loving you. I wish I could stop loving you, but I can't. I wish I could just pretend that this isn't happening, but I can't.
Merry Christmas.
I love you.
Love,
Jamie
Sara had ended up being a whore. She had cheated on me a week later and that was that.
I dropped the letter and hastily picked up the next one. This one was dated June 10, 1990. The day Jamie and Mike had graduated. The day me and Tre would have graduated if I hadn't dropped out and if Tre hadn't overdosed.
Dear Billie Joe, June 10, 1990
Today we graduated. You were right there in the crowd, cheering for me and Mike. You should have been up here with us, BJ. You should have gotten your diploma too. Tre should have been up here.
I told you I threw away all of Tre's things, but I really didn't. It's because it was my fault he killed himself. We were fighting because he wanted to drop out of school, and I refused to let him. We ended up in a huge argument, and I told him he was better off dying than dropping out. Billie, he took me seriously. He killed himself, and it was all my fault.
Then, when you told me you wanted to drop out two weeks later, I was so scared to talk to you. I was afraid that you would end up killing yourself too, and it would be my fault. So I let you do it. But you really do deserve have been up here with us.
Billie, I'm still hoping that this will all go away. I'm still hoping that one day I will wake up, and I won't love you, and all this hurting will go away.
I'm still hoping, but every day I wake up and I love you even more.
And it hurts more every day too.
Thanks for the flowers. They really are beautiful.
Love,
Jaime
I began to cry. Jaime blamed herself for Tre killing himself. And maybe it was her remark that pushed him over the edge, but Tre hadn't been happy for a while. It wasn't her fault that he was so unhappy. Was this why Jamie had left? The guilt?
I picked up the final letter. This one looked newer, the envelope whiter. The date on the paper said September 15, 1993. She had written this one only three days ago. I ripped open the envelope, and emptied the letter out on the floor. I was almost afraid to touch it. So recent, so honest. This one would hold the entire truth.
Dear Billie Joe, September 15, 1993
I'm going to leave. I don't know when I'm coming back. I love you.
Dear Billie Joe
This is so hard for me, but I'm leaving. I'm sorry, but I can't be near you and feel this way.
Dear Billie Joe,
This is the last letter I will ever write to you, the last letter you will ever not receive. I'm leaving in three days. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm never coming back. I'm so sorry.
I've finally realized after all these years that you just don't feel the same way. You don't love me. I will always just be your friend. But not anymore. We can't be friends even, because it just hurts way too much.
I love you, Billie Joe. I always have, I always will. But I need to try to forget about you so that I can live my life. Please don't be angry with me. This is the only way that I can go on living my life. You are keeping me back from everything, and I can't let you do that anymore.
I'm so, so sorry, BJ. I love you so much. But you'll never know, because I'm a coward and will never tell you. I've had two choices for the longest time: tell you, or leave, and I'm too afraid to do either. But leaving would be better for me, and so much better for you. You don't need me always hanging around you, getting in your way.
You'll never get this, but I want to say goodbye.
Goodbye, Billie Joe.
I will always love you.
Love,
Jaime
I slid the letter back in the envelope and set it next to others. "You'll never know, because, I'm a coward and will never tell you." Why hadn't she told me? "Jamie," I groaned, covering me face with my hands. If she had only told me, maybe she wouldn't have left. She wouldn't have left because I would have told her that I loved her too.
Were they allowed to use cell phones on planes? Could I call her? I dialed her cell phone, but it was turned off. I left a message. "Please, Jamie, call me back as soon as you get this message. I really have to talk to you as soon as possible. Call me, please," I said in the message.
I sat on the couch, rereading each letter again and again, glancing at the phone every now and then. Hopefully she would call, wouldn't she? What could I do but wait?
This part of the story is in first person POV (Billie Joe's)
I spread the letters out in front of me on the living room floor. There were four of them in all.
I picked one up, the one I had opened before, and slid the letter out. Carefully unfolding it, I looked at the date at the top. It said April 23, 1986. Jamie's fourteenth birthday. I remembered that day. Me and Mike had surprised Jamie with a party for the three of us. We had spent all day jumping in and out of the pool, watching movies, and eating way too much pizza. Jamie tripped when she was running around the pool and skinned her knee. I carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I cleaned her knee and put a band-aid on it. Then I had kissed her forehead, carried her back down, and thrown her in the pool. Jamie disappeared for about ten minutes while Mike and I were in the pool, then came back down the stairs like nothing had ever happened. Had she gone away to write this letter? And why to me?
I brushed his finger over the date at the top, the memory fading from my mind. Then I looked down at the actual letter part. It was short, due to the attention span of a fourteen year old. I began to read it. After all, it was meant for me, wasn't it?
Dear Billie Joe, April 23, 1986
What is happening to me? I've never felt this way around you before, and it scares me. I never loved you before, but now I do. This isn't supposed to happen. We said best friends forever, but I don't want to be just friends.
Why is this happening to me? I don't want to love you. I just want to go back to how we were. I never wanted this. What do I do? I want to tell you so bad it hurts. I want you to feel the same as me.
I'm sorry for causing this complication between us, BJ.
But I love you.
Love,
Jaime
This was deep for a fourteen year old. I carefully folded the letter back up and put it in the envelope. Jaime had loved me. So much that she had to get away just to get some of it out of her system in a letter.
But fourteen was a confusing year. It could have easily been a school crush.
I couldn't help but think of what she said though. I don't want to love you. I never wanted this. I want you to feel the same as me. Had she really felt that way?
I picked up the second envelope. The date on this letter was December 25, 1989. That was Christmas, the year we were all seventeen. Mike's friend John had invited us to come up to his cabin in Mammoth. That was the year that I had Sara. Sara, my girlfriend. I had brought her up with me, Mike, and Jamie. Jamie hadn't talked to me much on that trip, and I had wondered why. Wondered what I had done.
Dear Billie Joe, December 25, 1989
I want you as mine, but I can't have you. Why did you bring Sara? Can't you tell she's a whore?
Why did you have to do this to me? Why did you have to make me fall in love with you, Bill. I'm losing sight of what's real, and what's not. In my dreams, you love me, and we are happy. But in reality, you love Sara, and I'm just a friend.
Sometimes I wish that I could just dream forever. It's the only time I truly happy. Sometimes, I think about killing myself. What's the point of living if you don't love me back? You're the only thing in this world that means anything to me, Billie Joe. But I can't have you, so what's the point?
I'm so fucking angry with you. You brought her. Well Merry Fucking Christmas to you to Billie.
I'm angry, but I can't stop loving you. I wish I could stop loving you, but I can't. I wish I could just pretend that this isn't happening, but I can't.
Merry Christmas.
I love you.
Love,
Jamie
Sara had ended up being a whore. She had cheated on me a week later and that was that.
I dropped the letter and hastily picked up the next one. This one was dated June 10, 1990. The day Jamie and Mike had graduated. The day me and Tre would have graduated if I hadn't dropped out and if Tre hadn't overdosed.
Dear Billie Joe, June 10, 1990
Today we graduated. You were right there in the crowd, cheering for me and Mike. You should have been up here with us, BJ. You should have gotten your diploma too. Tre should have been up here.
I told you I threw away all of Tre's things, but I really didn't. It's because it was my fault he killed himself. We were fighting because he wanted to drop out of school, and I refused to let him. We ended up in a huge argument, and I told him he was better off dying than dropping out. Billie, he took me seriously. He killed himself, and it was all my fault.
Then, when you told me you wanted to drop out two weeks later, I was so scared to talk to you. I was afraid that you would end up killing yourself too, and it would be my fault. So I let you do it. But you really do deserve have been up here with us.
Billie, I'm still hoping that this will all go away. I'm still hoping that one day I will wake up, and I won't love you, and all this hurting will go away.
I'm still hoping, but every day I wake up and I love you even more.
And it hurts more every day too.
Thanks for the flowers. They really are beautiful.
Love,
Jaime
I began to cry. Jaime blamed herself for Tre killing himself. And maybe it was her remark that pushed him over the edge, but Tre hadn't been happy for a while. It wasn't her fault that he was so unhappy. Was this why Jamie had left? The guilt?
I picked up the final letter. This one looked newer, the envelope whiter. The date on the paper said September 15, 1993. She had written this one only three days ago. I ripped open the envelope, and emptied the letter out on the floor. I was almost afraid to touch it. So recent, so honest. This one would hold the entire truth.
Dear Billie Joe, September 15, 1993
I'm going to leave. I don't know when I'm coming back. I love you.
Dear Billie Joe
This is so hard for me, but I'm leaving. I'm sorry, but I can't be near you and feel this way.
Dear Billie Joe,
This is the last letter I will ever write to you, the last letter you will ever not receive. I'm leaving in three days. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm never coming back. I'm so sorry.
I've finally realized after all these years that you just don't feel the same way. You don't love me. I will always just be your friend. But not anymore. We can't be friends even, because it just hurts way too much.
I love you, Billie Joe. I always have, I always will. But I need to try to forget about you so that I can live my life. Please don't be angry with me. This is the only way that I can go on living my life. You are keeping me back from everything, and I can't let you do that anymore.
I'm so, so sorry, BJ. I love you so much. But you'll never know, because I'm a coward and will never tell you. I've had two choices for the longest time: tell you, or leave, and I'm too afraid to do either. But leaving would be better for me, and so much better for you. You don't need me always hanging around you, getting in your way.
You'll never get this, but I want to say goodbye.
Goodbye, Billie Joe.
I will always love you.
Love,
Jaime
I slid the letter back in the envelope and set it next to others. "You'll never know, because, I'm a coward and will never tell you." Why hadn't she told me? "Jamie," I groaned, covering me face with my hands. If she had only told me, maybe she wouldn't have left. She wouldn't have left because I would have told her that I loved her too.
Were they allowed to use cell phones on planes? Could I call her? I dialed her cell phone, but it was turned off. I left a message. "Please, Jamie, call me back as soon as you get this message. I really have to talk to you as soon as possible. Call me, please," I said in the message.
I sat on the couch, rereading each letter again and again, glancing at the phone every now and then. Hopefully she would call, wouldn't she? What could I do but wait?
