Dres,                                                                                                       12/14/15

     Today I broke my time on the butterfly. Placed first and my teammates took me out to this bar that doesn't card. I got classy wasted because they all remembered IN VIVID DETAIL the night we shall not mention. Classy wasted, in case you were wondering, is two vodka sodas, with a lemon drop shot before, and a lemon drop after. No more, no less.

      Joshua was super proud of my newfound tolerance. You remember Joshua, right? He's a senior now and the swim captain. I puked in his Sperry's, if you recall.

     When I got home, late af, like maybe 3ish? Mom woke up and I expected her to be pissed. Cause you know underage drinking and whatnot. But she was like, "There's ginger ale in the fridge" and "Keep some water and a trashcan by your bed." To say I was shocked. Evidently, California Cas can get away with a hell of a lot more than Aurora Cas.

     Funny thing, drunk orgasms feel gravity-defying. Thought I'd share that. Thinking about you. (Was thinking about you then, too) (Sorry if that's not what you want to hear) (er, read)

     Always,

     Cas

     Dres,                                                                                                    04/09/16

     I've convinced mom to let me foster a dog. We can't adopt or shop because this isn't a permanent thing. Like on one end mom's like whatever, this isn't my house go ahead and get a dog. But then she's like, well what's the plan in four years? Cause I'm not getting saddled with a dog you buy. I told her I have no freaking clue what the plan is in four years I don't even have a plan for the next four days.

     So we're fostering. His name is Fester (YES LIKE UNCLE FESTER FROM ADAM'S FAMILY!!!) and he's a four year old Australian Shepherd. He's BEAUTIFUL. Like obviously he doesn't really compete or compare to my loves C&D. He's super docile tho and we go on walks on the beach and then he just sits so freaking patiently when I go in the water. He's my best friend. I'm including a photo of us because he is just so dang smashing and everyone must see it and since you're not on socials you get a hard copy that I went to Staples to print.

     I hope that makes you feel special.

     Always,

     Cas

     AH FESTER LICKED THE ENVELOPE FOR ME HOW STINKIN CUTE

     Dres,                                                                                                       05/03/18

     Today I got to thinking. The way I so often do. What if there are all these parallel universes, but they're all basically the same thing except variant? Like which is to say there's ONE difference. Like all these universes are occurring at the same time, like I'm sitting on the grass in my quad in a bajillion different parallel universes. Except in one I'm wearing red, instead of white. Or I'm drinking kombucha instead of Dr. Pepper, or I'm writing with a blue pen, or it's raining and not sunny (fAT CHANCE IT LITERALLY NEVER RAINS HERE I MISS WEATHER PATTERNS)

     My point is what if there's a bunch of universes and they're all basically the same except not. And so there's one universe where you didn't leave, where you didn't re-enlist and in that universe we're still together. But I still came here for school. Like maybe, no definitely, there's a universe where I stayed but lets focus on the one where you didn't reenlist and we're not over but I'm still in LA. And Friday nights we have FaceTime movie dates. This Friday we're watching The Big Sick because I won (maybe we FaceTimed drew straws) (nO wait we FaceTimed rock paper scissored) so yeah I won. You wanted to watch Split. But it's Big Sick and we do this every Friday. And sometimes you're like "why don't you go out and have a life?" Being that I'm nineteen, having a life entails frat parties which are just not fun. I say, "Dres" in that voice that's like are you KIDDING me? What a PREPOSTEROUS idea. "THIS is having a life. This is the life I choose."

     In another world, I got to choose you. In another universe, we're together and we're happy even if we're apart.

     I'm imagining another 'nother universe where you're blond. Like platinum. I think it'd be hot honestly. Something to consider.

     Always,

     Cas

     Dres,                                                                                                  01/22/17

     I woke up missing you.

    I wake up most days missing you. But today's missing was potent. Today I laid in bed and thought about that year of my life and my chest got all achy and I just laid there. My swim practices are early, which isn't unusual and not something I'm not used to. But my workload has doubled, maybe tripled, so I was up pretty late and I'm tired. And I hardly slept because I was too busy missing you and I'm tired. Lying in bed can be a dangerous thing when you're this tired and have to be somewhere in a half hour.

     Things I miss about you:

     1. Your laugh which is almost as good as

     2. Your smile

     I miss your laugh more simply because auditory memory goes before visual memory does. I actually don't know if that's factual AT ALL but it is factual FOR ME so therefore it is JUST FACTUAL. And that's on Cas logic. But srsly, I can't really hear your laugh anymore, which sucks but at least I remember what your smile looks like.

     3. Your nonexistent sense of humor which was humorous. Like it was funny how you just found so little funny.

     4. Which is why when you DID find things funny OH GOD the best

     5. Your horrible, awful, outdated taste in music. I strictly forbade any music that wasn't released post '96 though because that shit hurts. Yeah I catch some Elvis Presley playing as I pass a coffee shop and it freaking WINDS me. I feel like I've just been hit with a ton of bricks. Like a piano just fell on my head. Unexpected. Comical, almost, in how easily it takes me out.

     This list could go on forever, I realize.

    Moral of the story is I miss all the things about you. Even the things that I kinda sorta hate about you. There aren't many but they exist. Part of this journey is realizing you are not the perfect person I made up in my head. That's okay. I don't need the perfect person. Just you.

     Always,

     Cas

     When I get to work Monday, I am overly-conscious of everything. Any footstep outside the kitchen makes my heart jerk. I haven't gotten over Saturday night and I'm not in the position where I can comfortably face Cas. Not that I really think he's even going to show up. Like he said, things are done between us.

     Knowing that doesn't stop me from jumping when Rumi comes into the kitchen that evening. Doesn't keep me from holding my breath, waiting for her to say, "Boy toy is here." She doesn't, though. Instead, she asks me if its worth grinding more beans since we're closing soon.

     Monday ends without incident. I still can't sleep, though, and have no need, absolutely no want, to stay awake. My head's a torture chamber, replaying the image of Cas lying beneath me, covered in marks I didn't put there. I take the sleeping pills, shove my head under my pillow, clutching it to my ears in a futile attempt to drown out my thoughts.

     Tuesday is easier than Monday but not by much. I'm less on edge, not really worried that Cas is going to show. And by Wednesday, I think I've maybe reconciled with Saturday completely. I can move on from it. I have to, because Thanksgiving is in a few weeks.

     It's past midnight and I'm debating on the sleeping pills. They aren't something I want to become dependent on and even though I feel less anxious about everything, I just can't sleep. I get out of bed and head downstairs to try some tea, which I know won't work but lying in bed stewing over how I can't sleep won't help me, either.

     Delta and Charlie are having no trouble sleeping at all. Delta's curled at the bottom of my bed and Charlie in his bed on the floor. They don't move when I get up and head downstairs. I turn on the electric kettle and wait, sitting at the island.

     It's Delta who wakes first, before the Ring has even alerted me of motion outside my door. She runs down the stairs and to the front, followed closely by Charlie. I've figured out that this is a reaction they only seem to have to Cas. They'd remained rooted in their spots when Jack had shown up Sunday.

     I get up, my pulse ricocheting against my skin, and walk over to the door, pulling it open. He doesn't ring the doorbell, hasn't any of the times he's shown up, like he just knows I'll be awake and waiting for him.

     I stare at him, at the willful expression on his face.

     Then I say, "Thought you were done with this shit?"