Letters With Boys

Memphis and Gray, Week 12 - December

Woman of My Dreams,

How is it possible that you just keep getting cooler and cooler? My buddy Charlie, who I brag about you sometimes to, was all, “She sounds too good to be true, bro. Bet she starts being a nag and a b***h in a few weeks, like all the rest.”

Well, it’s been more than a few weeks, and I don’t think you’re a nag or a b***h at all, Mem. And I certainly don’t think you’re anything like “all the rest.” In fact, as I told you on Saturday after a very enjoyable hour of steaming up my car in the parking lot of the abandoned Lutheran church (didn’t know you were so heathenistic, by the way, but kind of into it), I am quite certain that I am in love with you.

You reacted about how I expected, by the way, so don’t go feeling bad that you didn’t say it back. I’m a tough guy—I can handle it. I know (okay, hope) you’ll say it when you’re ready.

Has Todd said anything about me? Or your parents? I keep replaying the evening, you know, trying to think if there’s anything I did or said that I shouldn’t have. But I followed the instructions of those articles you sent me to a T, and it seems like they worked.

Would it be crazy if we took a trip together over Christmas break? I don’t know where yet, but I’m sure I could come up with something. I hear I’m an excellent date-maker.

Love,

Gray

P.S.: How often is too often for me to text you dirty things like we did that one night? Asking for a friend.

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Gray,

Don’t get too comfortable—I think your buddy Charlie is onto me. I like to lure my victims in nice and tight before letting the other shoe drop.

Thank you for being patient, by the way. Not just about the L word stuff, but about the S word stuff, too. (Not “s**t,” I mean. “Sex.” You probably knew that, though.) I really don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m glad I did.

Todd won’t shut up about you. He’s re-told your story about the fisherman and the duck like a thousand times, and he made Mom order him a leather jacket so he could look like you. I’m not even kidding.

(Which, by the way, I take personal offense to, as I’ve been wearing leather jackets for years and he never once tried to imitate it.)

My parents said nice things about you, too. They really appreciated how good you were with him, as did I.

It won’t always be like that—he’s going to have an episode in front of you eventually. But at least now they know you’re good enough with him at his best to potentially handle him at his worst.

A Christmas trip sounds nice, but how are we going to afford that? I know I don’t have the money for a trip. You may always joke that our dates are “on your parents,” but surely there’s some limit to how much of their money you can spend?

Love,

Mem

P.S.: Don’t read too much into me signing my letter “Love.” I know you, Gray. I know you will.

P.P.S.: Technically I was the one who started that dirty text conversation. So, I think you get at least one free pass for starting the next one.

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Mem,

You’re right—I did read into it. In the best way possible. Let a guy dream, would you?

There is no need for you to thank me for “being patient,” as you call it, given that I’m getting more than my fair share of pleasure out of what we’ve currently got going on. Also because I’m a “real” good guy and therefore don’t need credit for doing good guy things. (See how much you’ve taught me since our first letter?)

I get that things won’t always go that well with Todd, but I’m grateful the first time did, so that at least I get a shot at a round 2. I really like the idea of coming around, you know, to your place. Hanging out. Seeing what you’re like in your element, with your family (and your drum set—which, by the way, you're SO good! Not that I'm surprised). Especially since that’s not really an option for you, coming around to mine. Since mine is a high school dorm room.

As for Christmas, I don’t think you fully grasp how much money my parents have, nor how intent they are on pretending I don’t exist. Sure, if I purchased a Lamborgini or a private airplane, they might lift a hand to swat me. Otherwise, I’m not worth the trouble.

So, just say yes, and I’ll treat us both to the best Christmas ever.

Love,

Gray

P.S.: I will be activating the aforementioned dirty text convo free pass tonight at approximately 10:49pm.

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Gray,

Props to you on taking full advantage of your free pass last night. Though I’m not sure we should do that on weeknights anymore, as it gets me a little too excited and therefore unable to get a good night’s sleep.

In less exciting news, Tally and Kai have been having trouble in paradise. He seems to have some reservations about introducing her to his family, and that on top of the whole Somalia trip I mentioned to you is causing some serious rifts with them. Tally wants us to have a girls’ night Saturday, so if you have any new, brilliant date ideas, you’ll have to work around that.

(For the record, we really don’t have to keep doing that. Maybe you could just come over and hang, since you mentioned having residual interest in that. I can show you the Helter Skelter solo I've been working on. Sunday?)

I’m not sure how I feel about taking a luxurious Christmas trip on your parents’ dime, but if you’re sure they won’t mind, maybe we could take a more low-budget Christmas trip. I mean, I’m not exactly the type who needs to stay in a Four Seasons, and as far as I know, you aren’t, either. But I am curious to hear what type of trip you have in mind.

Also—how’s our friend Ezra doing? Haven’t thought about him in a while, but last night, I had a dream that he picked me up by the ankle, turned me upside down, and started dunking me in and out of a pool of water like he was toying with the idea of drowning me. So, that was pretty weird.

Love,

Mem

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Mem,

I apologize for not allowing you to get a proper night’s sleep last night on account of my (and your) rather inappropriate texting. I solemnly swear to keep it to weekends only from now on.

Sorry to hear about Tally and Kai. He’s actually sitting next to me right now. “All good with Tally?” I just asked him. His eyes got all big and wide and panicked, and he was all, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Poor guy.

I’d give him a lecture on why it’s important to meet the parents, being something of an expert in the matter, but I think it’ll mean more coming from Bridget. If I were you, I’d ask her to talk to him.

Speaking of which, I’d love to come over Sunday. I’ll be a little bummed not to spend Saturday with you after what feels like a million Saturdays in a row, but I’ll manage. I do have friends, for the record. I just haven’t subjected you to meeting any of them yet on account of their being mostly miserable lowlifes. (Not like me.)

Re: Christmas—I was thinking we could take a trip up to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a cabin up there that he never uses. It’s close to the ski resorts, if we wanted to go that route, or if that’s a bit too sporty for us couch potatoes, there’s also hiking, horseback riding, snuggling by the fire, and that sort of thing. Any thoughts?

As for our friend Ezra, that’s a really weird dream to have about someone you barely know, Mem. Didn’t you only meet the guy that one time, at the stupid Seacoast party I didn’t go to? The one where he couldn’t take a hint with Tally?

He seems fine, I guess. Already got his early admission acceptance to a few flashy schools that would never let me in over their dead bodies. I can always try my hand again at bruising him up if you want me to, have more nightmares about him, etc. 

Always happy to defend your honor.

Love,

Gray