• • •
To: Alice Carroll
Date: Monday, November 23, 2015 02:16 PM
From: Nathaniel Easton
Subject: (no subject)
While the return of the ring is something that I’m appreciative of, it was sorely tempered by your empty chair mocking me during class today. I can feel you still punishing me for what I did, in the way that you didn’t even write my name on the envelope, how the only item sandwiched in between the plain white paper was the ring itself. No note, nothing. Maybe you didn’t intend for it to hurt as much as it did, but let me assure you if that was your goal, I felt it like you’d hammered a single, rusty nail into my heart. In fact, I was late to class for the first time all semester, because it took me ten fucking minutes before I could even take the ring out of the envelope. Maybe that seems strange to you, but to me, it felt like I was accepting your goodbye in doing so. By the time I arrived, only half the class was there, and the remaining students who filled the seats barely paid attention, their heads already on break, already back home.
But you and I? We don’t count down to moments like that, do we? I don’t know what your house looks like, or how many siblings you have. I don’t know if there are friends that you will connect with while you’re in town, but God, Adele, I want to know those things. There’s a possibility in relationships such as ours, to know someone on a bone-deep level, to recognize the soul of the other person, but not have a single notion of what the ins and outs of their life is. Let me know both sides of you. Please?
Nathan
• • •
To: Alice Carroll
Date: Tuesday, November 24, 2015 09:59 PM
From: Nathaniel Easton
Subject: (no subject)
Every day, I wake up and I think, maybe she wrote me back today. Can you believe that I actually thought that I could give you space? Not email you, let you breathe without me begging for scraps.
Every morning that I’ve ended up sending you some woefully inadequate words, I’ve started the day with resolve. Women need space sometimes. And that’s okay. If I were you, I’d have a hard time forgiving me too. But I’m weaker than that, Adele. I can’t make it through the waking hours with an ache like that, the one sitting like an anvil in my stomach that I carry around with me all day long. And it doesn’t abate until I try, just one more time.
Most cordially,
Nathaniel Robert Easton
(I wish I knew your middle name, will you please tell me? That’s all you need to put in an email. Just your middle name in the subject line, and I might be able to breathe again.)
(Also, I’m trying very hard not to drink every day that I don’t hear from you. It doesn’t always work, so if that happens, I’ll most likely try to call you again. Could you please pick up this time?)
• • •
To: Alice Carroll
Date: Wednesday, November 25, 2015 10:15 PM
From: Nathaniel Easton
Subject: (no subject)
I forgot to include this in my email yesterday: What did you switch your major to? I can’t even fathom that I forgot to ask that. And as much as I’ll try not to sound like a boring professor by saying this, I’m sure it will come out that way. You’re so talented, Adele. I hope you don’t give up writing, because that would be a tragedy.
And as much as I thought I’d be able to abstain tonight, this topic of discussion and the thought of spending the day with my family tomorrow has me pouring myself some whiskey. I’ll try not to call you too many times, but I can’t make any promises. When my defenses are down, you’re always the first thing I want. Unapologetically.
N
• • •
To: Alice Carroll
Date: Thursday, November 26, 2015 01:16 AM
From: Nathaniel Easton
Subject: (no subject)
YOu never answer my phone callsd. and I cann’t even be mad. Because I was suuuuuuch a fucking dick. Can you beleive that I’ve never been SUCH A DICK to anyone before?
I don’t know why. Maybe I do. Maaybe it’s because you’re you. You are so far under my fucking skin, adele, and I’m glad. I like you there. Please don’t try to remove yourslef.
BUT I had to try a couple tiems, just to be sure you weren’t going away. Dont go away, please.
please
please
please
and Ive never asked someone so nicely to taslk to me again. You’ve turned me intlo a pussy. I miss you. A fucking lot. So it’s okay.
• • •
To: Alice Carroll
Date: Thursday, November 26, 2015 10:16 AM
From: Nathaniel Easton
Subject: The mortification of a hangover. And another apology.
I woke this morning, wanting to die in my bed, yet still wishing I could roll over and see your face. Apparently even the mother of all hangovers doesn’t erase that particular desire.