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He drove me across the ocean and I washed up in your arms |
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Dear David, Per Solum Lacuna - that means, through words alone... that's how I came to know you and how you came to know me. I'm so glad that you know me. I'm so glad that you chose me all those years ago, to write to and confide in. At first I thought that it'd be awkward and strange and you wouldn't want to bother with someone like me. But I quickly realised how wrong I was. I could have told you anything and you would listen. Right? Well, I like to think you might. It's like the way we always joke... One day I'm going to swim the ocean, the Big Blue Wet Atlantic, and I'm going to wash up half drowned, battered and exhausted on the shore. I'll probably be found by some large, fourth generation Italian American family who'll look after me, but I'll always be thinking that I've got to get to you. To say hello. And you'll find out: there'll be a huge news story about the blond Briton that swam the Atlantic in his converse shoes. You'll ind out and you'll run down to the beach where the Italian-American family live and you'll sweep down and scoop me up and hold me in your arms and tell me never to be so foolish again, to take a plane next time, not that you'll let me go. You'll look at me and tell me that it doesn't matter than you're this gorgeous, older, popular guy with girls and guys running around him, willing to fall at your feet and you'll call me 'cutie' the way you always have. I'm dreaming, of course. I'm not even going to email this to you. It'll be my own private wish-fulfillment. I know it's only been a year of writing but I wish I could see you. Wish some part of these hopeless dreams could be real and that some part of this life could be beautiful again. Well good night. I'll probably message you for real tomorrow anyway. MSN me? I guess I don't even need to ask. I know you'll be there. And we'll joke and we'll talk and I'll know you per solum lacuna. The only way I'll ever know you. Love. Matt. * Dear Matt, I'm worried about you. I'm worried that something's wrong, that you're hurting. You seemed so distracted and upset the other night when we spoke. I hope you're ok. I've got to go now. But I'll email you properly in the morning. Love you cutie, David. * Matt and David have been friends for years via a penpal website. Matt was only 14 at the time and David was nearly 17, but somehow it worked out. Now, with Matt's 18th birthday approaching, the English born boy is driven away from home and he flees across the ocean, certain that his best friend Alexandra Lloyd can protect him from his demons. Having landed in JFK Airport he realises that he left with only half a plan and he can't reach Alex's phone. David comes to the rescue, but can anyone truly save Matt from the past that's haunting him? |
| Chapter | 1 | Prologue: Per Solum Lacuna | 12.58k |
| Chapter | 2 | The Little House on 24th Street | 20.23k |
| Chapter | 3 | Boy Blown Over the Cuckoos Nest | 34.07k |
| Chapter | 4 | His Heart of Darkness | 24.11k |
| Chapter | 5 | New York, New York | 26.09k |
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