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Shake off some shame

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Dear Puck,

I know the text didn’t say much. This postcard doesn’t say much, either. I’m sorry I had to leave. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in person, but I think you would’ve stopped me and I didn’t want to be stopped. I’ll be ok.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

So I didn’t ever send that postcard. I guess you don’t know what postcard I’m talking about since I didn’t actually send it. I wrote you a postcard while I was on the bus. I meant to send it when I got here, but I stuck it in in my pocket and it got wet and the ink kind of melted and then the whole thing fell apart. I think that’s one of those metaphor things that Kurt used to talk about. I think maybe the postcard is me. I’m a wet postcard and I fell apart.

I guess I’m maybe not going to mail this one, either. Maybe once I get set up some place. I’ll keep it somewhere dry this time, just in case.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

I think my hand is really messed up. It needed stitches, for sure, but I think maybe I messed up some other stuff in it, too. It doesn’t look like it’s shaped right. I’m keeping it taped up for now. Nothing smells weird or is turning black, so at least it’s not that bad, right?

I found a place to stay. It’s really cheap and I can stay here for a while without worrying about finding a job. I’ll have to figure out how to do that, since I left my wallet in the Jeep. I’ve got money from cashing that check, but I don’t want to spend it all. I want to be able to get a ticket back if things start feeling better. I just can’t do it right now.

I miss you. Like a lot. Like more than I thought I would. More than when you went to LA. I miss you like sophomore year when we weren’t talking and I didn’t think we’d ever fix stuff.

I don’t think I’m mailing this one.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

It’s been a while. Sorry. It’s been more than a while for you, since I don’t ever mail these, but it’s been a long time for me to write, too. I’m still trying to get my shit together. It’s hard. I’ve had a lot of days I didn’t want to get out of bed at all. I’ve had days I feel so stupid for leaving how I left. How could I do that? I walked out on everybody and all I left behind was a stupid text. You must all hate me so much now. I don’t like to think about that part.

So I’ve been doing some work with these lawn guys. They “wake up” people’s lawns, which I guess is fancy way of saying they get them looking nice for spring after everything got dead and ugly during the winter. Some of it’s hard because of my hand, but I’m starting to learn to do stuff with my left hand.

I got the job because the guy in the next room over from mine at the place I’m staying works there. Most of the crew speaks Spanish so I guess it’s good I paid attention in Mr. Schue’s classes. I can talk to them enough to get their jokes. They seem like good guys.

Part of what they do is get people’s pools cleaned up and ready for when pool season opens. I told them I knew how to do that because my best friend owns a pool cleaning business back in Ohio, and how you’d even had one in LA for a while. I might stay on with them for a while. It’s nice to have people to talk to. I miss you a lot. I liked telling the guys on the crew about you. I don’t think I told you I was proud of you. I think that’s the kind of thing guys don’t usually say to each other enough. I was, though. I am still. Telling those guys about you made me feel really proud of you, and proud to be your best friend.

Am I still your best friend?

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

Sorry I haven’t written. I’ve been really busy. I’ve been opening people’s pools. It’s hard work! You made it look so easy. I probably don’t look as good as you did doing it. I always leave my shirt on and ladies don’t bring me drinks. I just clean the pools and leave.

I miss you.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t say enough how much I’m sorry. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed in the Jeep when it went into the river. At least I wouldn’t be alone and you wouldn’t hate me for disappearing. Maybe you don’t, really, but I think you probably do.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

All the pools are open and the crew doesn’t need me anymore. I might move on soon.

I saw a movie this weekend. I think you would like it. It’s called Pacific Rim. It has this guy in it, Raleigh. He reminded me of you, because he’s sad from losing a lot of stuff, but he still wants to do the right thing, and he tries so hard, even when people don’t appreciate it. He has a best friend named Mako. I guess if you’re Raleigh, I must be her, even if I’m not a really hot Japanese chick. They had all this like great respect for each other, but they were also bros, and they had both lost people they loved. I think they also loved each other, too, but there wasn’t any kissing or anything.

Sometimes I feel like that about you. I loved you, even though there wasn’t any kissing.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

Last night I dreamed I was still in Lima. You and me were in the quad throwing cheetos at each other. Remember the time we did that? You were so orange, dude. You looked like an oompa loompa.

But anyway, it made me think maybe I should check on how everybody’s doing. I went to the library and tried to log into my Facebook, but it said my password was wrong. Then I tried to change my password, but when I went to my email, I couldn’t log in there, either. That password was wrong, too! Even the security question thing was changed. I put Mom’s maiden name in like five times, even. So weird. I finally gave up because the librarian lady was looking at me really suspicious and I didn’t want her to call the cops, since I’m an illegal Canadian now.

I think I’m really going to mail this one.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

Well, I didn’t mail it. I put it with the other ones, though, so if I ever grow enough of a pair to send them, you’ll see I didn’t forget you or anything. I wrote to you. I’m just too much of a chicken to actually send them.

I didn’t explain how I’m an illegal Canadian (not that you got the letter to wonder what that meant). It’s a funny story. I’m in the new place now. It’s like the old place I was at, just in a new town. I saw a sign about a job that I thought I’d be good at, because you have to be good with people and smile a lot and lift heavy stuff. Even though my hand still doesn’t work right, I’m still strong, and I like people, so I went in to see if I could get the job.

I did really good in the interview, and the manager lady really liked me, and her boss really liked me. Then they asked me about paperwork, like IDs and stuff, and I told them I didn’t have any of that stuff. They wanted to know why. I kind of panicked and told them I was an illegal immigrant. The boss guy looked really confused, and then the manager lady asked me “from Canada?” and I told her yes, I was an illegal Canadian. I guess it was the right thing to say, because I still got the job, and they pay me in cash, which is really nice, since I can’t get a bank account.

It’s weird how much stuff you need a driver’s license for that isn’t driving. I keep thinking I should try to get a new driver’s license for here, but I’d have to get my birth certificate, and I can’t get my birth certificate without a driver’s license unless my Mom does it for me. I figure she’s probably REALLY mad at me by now, because it’s been a couple of months since she’s heard from me. I figure she’s probably pretty pissed about the Jeep, too. Remember how I said I’m a chicken? I’m a TOTAL chicken.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

I know. Another letter I’m not going to send, probably. I’m going to keep on pretending it’s because I’m too busy, but I think mostly it’s because I’m afraid if I send it, you’ll actually write me back, and I don’t know. If you’re mad at me for leaving like I did, I guess I don’t want to read about it, because I know I’d deserve whatever you said to me. I want to be able to keep telling myself that when I finally go back, if I ever go back, that it could be like it was before. I think that’s probably really stupid to tell myself, though. It can’t ever be like it was before. Maybe I don’t really want it to be. If I liked how it was, I wouldn’t have left.

But I miss you. I miss you so much. God I miss you so fucking much.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

It’s getting cold already. How did the summer go so fast? I work a lot, I guess. It’s good work. I get to talk to a lot of people. It’s easier to pretend I don’t feel lonely. I am, though. I’m so lonely, but I can’t go back. It’s too late now. Maybe some day it’ll go from being too late to being long enough. I don’t know when that will happen.

I never told you why I left. It seems stupid now. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I don’t think I WAS thinking. I just knew I was failing, that all the highlighter markers in the world weren’t going to keep me from failing, and Puck, I just couldn’t fail at one more thing. I couldn’t. Maybe that sounds stupid or dramatic, but I just couldn’t have one more thing I wanted that I got all wrong. I failed so many things. I failed at being with Rachel. I failed at getting into acting school. I failed at the army. I failed at being a good glee club coach. I failed at being an adult. I couldn’t fail one more thing, Puck, I couldn’t. I felt like if I fucked up one more thing I was just.

Did I ever really tell you about my dad? What happened with him? If I had failed one more thing. I think if I failed one more thing I was going to turn into him. I didn’t want to be like my dad. I didn’t want to die alone in an apartment in Cincinnati, but I could feel myself becoming that. I can see how he got there. Can you understand? Does it make sense? I could feel myself turning into my dad and it was better to run away than to do that. Not to myself or anybody else.

Maybe I should have just surrendered to fate or whatever. Maybe that would’ve been better. Everything fell apart so fast, and I’m still alone, and I’ve still lost everything. Maybe it would’ve been better to be gone for real, so people could cry a little and then get over it. Who would even miss me that much besides Mom? Would you have missed me?

Do you miss me? I miss you so much. You’re the only person I write. Did you know that? Of course you don’t, because I never send these. You don’t know that I sit in my room and talk to you. You don’t know how many letters I’ve written. You don’t see how big the stack of them is getting. It’s such a big stack now. I’ve been gone so long it’s almost like I was never there at all.

Maybe I’m almost at that point where everybody really has forgotten me. If everyone forgets who you were, do you still exist? Would I still be that same Finn Hudson? Or would I only be the new Finn Hudson, the illegal Canadian who doesn’t have anybody? Are we the same people?

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

It’s colder here than in Lima. I saw the Hunger Games movie today. It was better than the book.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

Sometimes I think things about you that I shouldn’t, but I can tell you because I know I’ll never send these.

Sometimes I think I loved you. Sometimes I think if I hadn’t been so stupid and wrapped up in the shit I didn’t have, I might have seen I had you. I think I loved you. I think you might have loved me. I think it might have been really good.

Finn

 

Dear Puck,

I’m sorry. I fucked everything up. I fell apart. I broke. I took too long. I ruined everything. I miss you. I’m sorry. I love you. I should have mailed that first letter.

Finn