Date: Sun, 6 Jan 2008 18:34:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Ian Lewis <inlwtx@yahoo.com>
Subject: Leaving Everything to Chance Chapter 9: The Letter

DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of
homosexual contact between underage males. Read at
your own risk, and do not read at all if it is illegal
in your city, state, or province. All characters
depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real
persons can be attributed to chance.

Leaving Everything to Chance Chapter 9: The Letter

A couple of days afterward there was a envelope in my
mailbox. It wasn't postmarked, and there were no
destination or return addresses, and it was slightly
yellowed with age. It was simply marked, in a smooth
but definitely male script: "To You."

I had a pretty good idea who it was from. I'd called
and talked with my boyfriend Chance everyday since our
last date, and although he was obviously going through
the the trouble to hide it, I knew he was going
through years of belongings looking for something. I
would hear  an odd echo sometimes that would tell me
he was in his attic. Our the hollow thuds of cardboard
boxes being handled. Occasionally he'd say something
along the lines of "Heh, I haven't seen this thing for
years." When I'd question him on it, all he'd say was
that he was "Just looking for something." I held it up
to the sun, and I could see that it was packed pretty
well with a thick sheaf of papers. I looked down the
lane to my boyfriend's house, and wondered what he was
up to this time.

I put on some Killers and stretched out in my bed. My
mom was baking again, and occasional tendrils of
chocolate and cinnamon would waft through my room,
making me a little hungry. I carefully opened the
letter, since it was carefully sealed, and unfolded a
thick sheaf of papers. It was dated September 21,
2001., and it was addressed "To my Future Boyfriend."
I read on.
*     *     *     *     *
September 21, 2001

To My Future Boyfriend

I'm writing this on my 12th birthday, 10 days after
the attacks. I'm celebrating alone, really, because my
father isn't talking to me, and my mother is in her
room crying. My uncle Jim, her older brother, was one
of the many still not found amongst the wreckage.
She's also crying because her and my father have just
finished a big argument. My father showed up at my
school and made a scene when my teacher called him and
told him that I got caught kissing another boy in the
bathroom. Justin was his name, and although of course
it had been his idea, he lied and said I had forced
him. And stupid old me, trying to protect probably the
only boy for miles around who would kiss me, I went
along with it. First my father was yelling at the
principal for even suggesting that his son would do
such a thing, and when she called me down and I
admitted to it, he picked me up by my shirt and nearly
beat me there in the office. Had not security been on
the way, he probably would have. But since security
didn't follow him outside, he simply waited until
then. I will probably have these bruises for weeks.
When we got home, they got into an argument, him
blaming her for raising a boy who likes boys, and her
blaming him for not realizing that it was just a
phase, and that it wouldn't be long and we'll all have
forgotten about this. Either way, it was obvious that
I would have an uphill battle with my parents to get
them to realize that I was gay, and that wasn't going
to change. So here I am, burned from puppy love, and
bruised from fatherly love, 12,and alone. I'm writing
this to let you know that I've been waiting for you,
and I can't wait to meet you.

If you're reading this, then I've found you. You're
the boy I've fallen in love with. You're cute, smart,
and have a big heart with room for me in it. I enjoy
spending time with you, and we sometimes don't have to
say anything, just lean on each other, know we're
there for each other. If you're that one, then I smile
when I see you, and I know you smile when you see me.
I want you to know that I'm waiting for you, and I
know our first time will be the best thing that ever
happened to me. If I give this letter to you, I want
to thank you for rescuing me, because I've probably
been going through a little hell everyday without you.

Love,
Chance
*     *     *     *     *
I finished the letter, and was almost in tears. in the
fold of the letter, there was a picture. It was of
Chance and he was absolutely adorable, dressed up in
baseball gear. There was a man who slightly resembled
him standing behind him, sporting a whistle, shades, a
huge grin, and a cap that was perched on Chance's
head. They were proud and happy. The back of the
picture
read "Chance and Uncle Jim's first big win." I
carefully place the picture back in the envelope and
read the next letter.
*     *     *     *     *
September 21, 2002

To My Future Boyfriend

Happy Birthday to me. I'm writing this a year later
from my first letter to you, and to be honest, I'm not
much better off than the last time. I've had do endure
a year of going on forced dates and pretending to
enjoy them, and I've managed to convince my parents
that I'm not gay. I'm really ashamed of myself.
Somehow, I managed to go back in the closet. That's
really the opposite of progress. I've seen plenty of
cute boys, some who were nice to me, but none of them
are gay, and I don't think they're you. So, I'll wait.
And as I blow out the candles, I'll wish that you are
thinking of me.

School hasn't really gotten any easier, and Justin has
been trying to "win me back" since last fall. I
realize now what he wants and I don't think he'll get
it from me. He's older than me by 2 years, and he's
already in high school. God knows he's cute but he's
just a pervert. Oh well. Where are you? I'm waiting.

Love,
Chance
*     *     *     *     *
Attached was a picture of Chance, dressed in a suit,
looking awesome, with his arm around a girl. She
looked pleasant enough, but I knew Chance well enough
to know that his smile was fake. They were standing in
front of a car, and the back read "Fall Dance
2002--Chance and Jess" written in a suspiciously
motherly script. I smirked at that and read on.
*    *     *      *     *
September 21, 2003

To My Long Delayed Boyfriend

Heh, it's been a crazy year. The house burned down.
Not kidding. We've moved across town, to a somewhat
smaller house. High school's alright, the teacher's,
the classes, the boys! Are you one of them? I've given
up on the girls. To be honest, it's just too difficult
trying to make them happy when I really don't want to
be with them. I'm so much more comfortable around
guys. I'm sure that not before long, my dad will be
asking about my next girlfriend or lack thereof. I'm
getting tired of hiding it though. Ever since last
year, we've all come closer together, with the whole
me being straight and the house burning down. Mom
cooks (well, I must say.)and we sit around the table
talking and laughing like a real family. I'm going to
miss it. I'll see you (soon, hopefully.)

Love,
Chance
*     *     *     *     *
This picture was of a slightly older and much taller
Chance, donning a killer leather jacket, leaning over
a pool table in some smoky pool hall. There was a man,
whom I presumed to be his father, who was perched over
the table next to him, showing him the correct finger
placement for the hand bridge. Chance's blue eyes were
locked in concentration, and they had a newfound
maturity unseen in earlier photos. I can't quite tell,
but he looked a lot more like he does now. I guess he
was right, it had been a pretty crazy year. I checked
the back for a caption, and there wasn't any. I guess
it didn't need one.
*     *     *      *     *
September 21, 2005

Dear Boyfriend,
I'm so sorry. I've failed you. I gave my love to
someone, and he took it and used it and threw me away.
 I didn't write a letter to you last year, because I
brought my other letters to my friend at the time,
Colin, on my birthday. We had been going out for weeks
 and I thought he was genuinely interested in our
relationship. I slept with him, and the very next
fucking day he returned the letter to me, unopened,
saying "Thanks for the good time, but that's all it
was." I left school early because I didn't feel like
crying through all my class periods. That was a
indicator of how the rest of my year was going to go.
Colin's parents outed me to my parents, and hell broke
loose. Everyone said some things they really didn't
mean, and Mom ended up sobbing loudly in her room
again, and Dad ended up going to the bar to get
plastered, which was something he hadn't done for
years. At least he didn't beat me. Since then, my
parents have been somehow content to ignore any
aspects of my life except for making sure I'm clothed
and fed. It sounds like it's progress, but it's really
not. It hurts, being alone in my own home.
*     *     *     *     *
There was no picture with this one. But, I could see
wrinkled and smudged spots on the paper, and it was
obvious the author of this letter was in tears as he
wrote it.
*     *     *     *     *
September 21, 2006

Dear Boyfriend (Hey sexy!)

As I dig out this old envelope and reread last year's
letter, I can truthfully say that this year was
better. Mom and Dad are talking to me again, although
he's made it clear that he still doesn't approve, and
I probably shouldn't be parading any beaus around the
house while he's around. They're convinced by now that
I'm not just doing this to spite them, but they still
would like to have grandchildren someday. It's been a
long hard road to rebuilding my family's relationship,
but I'd like to think we're doing alright. My folks
aren't bad people, but they grew up in a certain way
of life, and it's kinda hard for them to accept mine
when it's so drastically different. When they're
ready, and we're ready, I'd like you to meet them. But
that may be years from now. It should be obvious that
they love me as much as you'll do, so there should be
some common ground, right? Until then, my friend and
lover.
*     *     *     *     *

I reached the end of the letters, and placed the
envelope on my dresser. I was a little overwhelmed. My
boyfriend had been through hell, and I've more or less
sailed by. I felt sorry for him but proud for him just
the same. I also felt so freaking good inside, as
Chance had singlehandedly demolished any doubts in my
mind as to if he loved me, and if we were made for
each other. And regarding his infidelity, I could
hardly blame him. He was young, he didn't even know me
yet, and dear God, I didn't mind the experience it
gave him.

I grabbed the letters, my car keys, and ran out to my
car. I was going to let Chance know what I thought of
him after learning so much about him. But when I got
out there, there he was, leaning on my car, looking
nervous as hell. He looked up startled, and tried to
judge some sort of reaction in my face. Wordlessly, I
went to him, tears in my eyes, and embraced him.
Almost instantly he burst into sobbing, collapsing
into me. "I love you so much Chance. Were I to lose
everything I've ever known, I would consider myself a
king for just having held you, like this, right here."

*     *     *     *     *

Hello, readers and friends. Here's the end of a
chapter, but not quite the end of the story. It will
take a different turn from here, but I've not quite
figured it out yet. That series I announced last time
has been scrapped for the moment, for a lack of
interest and inspiration on my part, I'm afraid. You
might still get to meet the protagonist, someday. But
do not despair, there's a new story, which I won't
delay in finishing for long. It's set in an
indeterminate time period, which is more likely in the
past. The boys you'll meet in this story will be of a
different mold, and I warn you, it probably won't have
any of the shameless sexual fare that this story
contains. But it will be a love story about two boys,
and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoy this.
"Here at the Top of the World," coming soon, from
yours truly. inlwtx@yahoo.com