I think I can still love, Danny.

Submission from Brendan...

Hey Danny,

I feel kinda weird typing this out. I feel like I should be saying it to your face. It’s hard, you know? I’ve carried these words around with me for so long. And now that I have to type them out they probably won’t come out right anyway.

I’ve been in love before. I know you have too. We’ve both fallen, fallen hard, and we’ve both been hurt. We could both trace lines from the charm and the romance all the way to the anger and the hate. We both know what it feels like to have that trust, that intimacy, that impossible faith in another person, and to then have it ripped out of our hands. We’ve both spent nights laying in our beds alone, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell we could possibly feel this awful. And I know, Danny, that all this hurt, all this knowledge of the pain that love brings makes us older, cynical, more likely to brush off each encounter as inconsequential. But they’re not inconsequential, Danny. They mean something. I’m not quite sure what, but I’m certain they mean something.

I’m tired, Danny. Things haven’t been easy. I’ve lost so much over the past few years. Some days I can feel the loss in my chest, like glue setting around all the things I didn’t say and all the tears that don’t ever come. There’s a tightness there that seems to disappear when you’re around. And I guess that’s why I’m writing this now.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this about someone. And, if I’m going to be honest, I’m a little surprised that I’m feeling this way about you. I mean, we barely know each other. We’ve spent a couple of hours together, tops. This seems foolish and adolescent. I mean, I’m twenty-nine now. I’m not supposed to be falling in love with someone after less than a day with them. But here we are. It’s been a long time since I’ve said it, and the words feel awkward in my mouth. But as I feel the syllables forming I know that it’s true: I do love Daniel Larusso.

But what happens when we’re no longer together? How long before the distance pulls us apart? I’ve had these fleeting affairs before. They always begin with the best of intentions. We get caught up in the excitement and make promises we can’t keep. The momentum drives us forward, but we’re hurtling towards an end that we can’t control. Eventually a couple of days pass before one of us calls. We don’t get so excited about the letters and the emails. And then we let that other person at the end of the bar buy us a drink. We fall apart so easily. And I’m not quite sure, Danny, that we can stop that from happening to us.

But Danny, I just don’t care. There’s just something about you that makes me feel like it will all be alright. I know this feeling can’t last forever, that someday we’ll be apart again. I know a time will come that I’ll look across at your side of the bed and you won’t be there, and I’ll feel your absence gape inside me like a wound. But Danny, with you I don’t care about the future. I want to be with you now, Danny. That’s all that matters.

I love you,

Brendan.