Letters from Jamie and Ethan | Almost by Armand Meintjes

Letter Extra · not in the book

To the Boy Who Makes Me Laugh

From Jamie · To Ethan

Dear Ethan,

I don't think you understand what you do to a room when you walk into it.

You make people laugh. You make awkward silences disappear. You somehow turn the most ordinary Tuesday into a story everyone remembers on Wednesday.

And then there's me.

I'm the boy who laughs a little too hard at your jokes because sometimes it's the only way I know how to keep looking at you without you noticing.

I wish you knew how much I think about the little things. The way you remember details other people forget. The way you can tell when something is wrong, even when I insist I'm fine. The way you say my name like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Maybe that's why I like hearing it so much.

You make being around people feel easier. You make being myself feel a little less frightening.

And that scares me more than I want to admit.

Because what happens when the person who makes you feel safe becomes the person you're terrified of losing?

I don't know if you will ever read this. I don't even know if I want you to.

I just know that somewhere between your stupid jokes and your stupid smile, you became someone I look for in every room.

And I don't know what to do with that.

- Jamie

The story behind the letter

Jamie wrote this letter on a night when he couldn't stop thinking about Ethan.

It had been one of those ordinary days that somehow became unforgettable. Ethan had made him laugh in class, teased him about something ridiculous, and looked at him with that familiar smile that made Jamie forget, for a few seconds, all the things he usually worried about.

To Ethan, it had probably meant nothing.

To Jamie, it meant everything.

That was the problem with Ethan. He could make Jamie feel like the most important person in the room without even realising he was doing it. A smile, a joke, a hand resting on Jamie's shoulder for a second too long. Jamie collected those moments like they were something precious, replaying them long after everyone else had forgotten them.

That evening, Jamie opened his notebook and began writing.

He didn't intend to write a letter. He only wanted to get the thoughts out of his head, to put them somewhere they couldn't keep hurting him. But somewhere between describing Ethan's laugh and admitting how much he looked forward to seeing him, the words became something more.

Jamie never gave Ethan the letter.

He folded it, slipped it between the pages of his notebook, and told himself it was better that way. Ethan was his friend. Their friendship mattered too much to risk losing it over feelings Jamie didn't know how to explain.

Still, before closing the notebook, Jamie read the letter one last time.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what would happen if Ethan ever read it.

Then he shut the book.

Some feelings were easier to write down than to say aloud.

- Armand

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Letter Extra · not in the book

Things I Don't Know How to Say

From Ethan · To Jamie

Dear Jamie,

You know what's weird?

I can talk to pretty much anyone about pretty much anything. I can make a joke out of an uncomfortable situation before anyone has time to notice it's uncomfortable.

But sometimes I sit next to you and forget how to be a normal human being.

Don't get excited. I'm still blaming you for at least forty percent of my problems.

Seriously, though, there's something about you that makes me want to stop pretending I have everything figured out.

Everyone seems to expect me to be the funny one. The easygoing one. The guy who doesn't take things too seriously.

And most days, that's fine. I like making people laugh.

But sometimes I wonder if anyone would know what to do with me if I stopped.

You don't seem to need me to be entertaining all the time. You can sit in silence, and somehow it doesn't feel like I have to fill it.

I don't know why that matters so much.

Maybe because silence is where all the things I don't say tend to live.

I haven't figured myself out yet, Jamie. I don't know what half the feelings in my head mean, and I'm not sure I want to give them names before I'm ready.

But I know I trust you.

And I think that's a bigger deal than I know how to explain.

If I ever manage to say any of this out loud, please pretend I was much cooler about it.

- Ethan

The story behind the letter

The Story Behind the Letter

Ethan wasn't used to being confused about himself.

He was usually the person who had something to say, the one who could turn an awkward silence into a joke or make someone smile when they were having a bad day. People expected him to be easygoing. Sometimes, he expected that of himself, too.

But lately, Jamie had been making things complicated.

Not because Jamie had done anything wrong. If anything, it was the opposite. Jamie had become someone Ethan noticed even when he wasn't trying to. Someone whose moods affected his own. Someone he sometimes wanted to tell things to before he had even figured out what those things were.

Ethan didn't know what to call any of it.

He only knew that the thought of hurting Jamie made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn't explain.

One evening, Ethan sat alone with a blank page in front of him. He started with a joke, crossed it out, and tried again. Every sentence sounded wrong. He wasn't even sure who he was writing to. Jamie, perhaps. Or maybe himself.

The letter became a place where Ethan could admit that he didn't have all the answers.

He could acknowledge that Jamie mattered without pretending to understand exactly why. He could admit that he was afraid of getting things wrong without promising something he wasn't ready to promise.

When he finished, Ethan stared at the page for a long time.

He almost tore it up.

Instead, he folded it and put it away.

He wasn't ready to give Jamie the letter. More importantly, he wasn't ready to explain it, even to himself.

For now, it was enough to admit that something had changed.

He just didn't know what that something meant yet.

- Armand

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Diary entry Extra · not in the book

2:17 a.m.

Jamie

It's 2:17 a.m., and I'm doing that thing again.

Thinking about everything I've ever said wrong. Everything I should have said. Every conversation I replay until the words don't even sound like words anymore.

I wonder if other people do this.

I wonder if Ethan lies awake sometimes, too.

The difference is that I imagine he has something better to think about.

I wish I could switch my brain off for a little while. Just long enough to sleep without arguing with myself. Long enough to wake up without feeling like I've already spent the entire day being tired.

Tomorrow, I'll get up. I'll get dressed. I'll go to school. I'll smile when someone speaks to me.

I'll probably laugh at something Ethan says.

And nobody will know that tonight I felt like I was carrying a thousand things I couldn't explain.

Maybe that's the hardest part.

You can be surrounded by people and still feel like you're somewhere nobody can reach.

But tomorrow, Ethan will probably make another terrible joke.

And I'll probably laugh.

For now, I think I'll hold on to that.

The story behind the letter

Two seventeen in the morning was a familiar kind of loneliness for Jamie.

The rest of the world seemed to have agreed to be quiet. His phone was still beside him, his room was dark, and the thoughts he'd managed to ignore during the day had finally caught up with him.

He had tried distracting himself. He had scrolled through his phone, listened to music, and told himself that tomorrow would be different.

But his mind kept returning to Ethan.

It wasn't only about liking someone who might never feel the same way. It was about everything that came with it: the fear of being too much, the fear of not being enough, and the exhausting uncertainty of never knowing whether to hope or let go.

Jamie hated how much power one person could have over his thoughts without even trying.

He opened his notebook because talking to someone felt impossible. He didn't want to worry Lila, and he couldn't exactly tell Ethan that Ethan was the reason he couldn't sleep.

So he wrote instead.

The words weren't polished. They weren't meant to be read by anyone. They were the kind of thoughts Jamie would never say in daylight, when he could convince everyone, including himself, that he was doing fine.

At 2:17 a.m., he didn't have to pretend.

He could admit that he was tired. That he was scared. That sometimes he wished his heart would stop hoping for things his mind knew might never happen.

When he finally put his pen down, nothing had been fixed.

Ethan hadn't magically become easier to understand. Jamie hadn't suddenly become braver.

But the thoughts were on paper now, instead of circling endlessly inside his head.

Jamie closed the notebook and lay back down.

It would be morning soon.

And in the morning, he would try again.

- Armand

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Unsent message Extra · not in the book

If You Ever Asked Me

From Jamie · To Ethan

Dear Ethan,

If you ever asked me when it started, I wouldn't know what to tell you.

It wasn't one big moment. There wasn't a perfect song playing in the background or some ridiculous scene where everything suddenly made sense.

It was smaller than that.

It was you saving me a seat.

You remembering something I'd told you weeks earlier.

You noticing when I went quiet.

You making me laugh on a day when I genuinely thought I had forgotten how.

Somewhere along the way, the little things stopped being little.

I started looking forward to seeing you before I even got out of bed. I started telling you things I hadn't told anyone else. I started wondering what you were thinking when you looked at me.

And then I started being afraid.

Because friendship is something I know how to understand. Friendship has a name. A place. Rules I can pretend to follow.

This doesn't.

I don't know what you feel when you look at me. I don't know whether you've ever wondered about us in the way I do.

I don't expect you to give me an answer I want.

I think I just wish I could ask the question without risking everything that came before it.

Because before I wanted anything else from you, Ethan, you were my friend.

And losing that would hurt in ways I don't know how to write down.

- Jamie

The story behind the letter

Jamie sometimes wondered what would happen if Ethan asked him the one question he was terrified of hearing.

What if Ethan looked at him one day, without a joke or a smile to hide behind, and asked whether Jamie had feelings for him?

Jamie imagined the conversation more times than he wanted to admit.

In some versions, he told Ethan everything. He explained every little moment he'd held onto, every time he'd gone home smiling because of something Ethan had said, and every night he'd spent trying to convince himself that friendship was enough.

In other versions, he laughed it off.

He said no. He said Ethan was being ridiculous. He protected their friendship by pretending his heart had never been involved.

The problem was that Jamie didn't know which version of himself would appear if the moment ever came.

One afternoon, he began writing a letter that answered the question Ethan had never asked.

It was a confession without an audience. A chance to be honest without having to face Ethan's reaction.

On the page, Jamie could say that his feelings weren't a demand. He didn't expect Ethan to return them, and he didn't want Ethan to feel responsible for them. Jamie simply wanted someone to understand that what he felt was real, even if it never became anything more.

When he finished, he imagined placing the letter in Ethan's hands.

He imagined Ethan reading it.

Then he imagined the silence that might follow.

That was enough to make him put it away.

Jamie wasn't ashamed of loving someone. He was frightened of what might happen after the truth was no longer a secret.

So the letter stayed hidden.

It held the answer to a question Ethan had never asked, and a truth Jamie wasn't ready to say.

- Armand

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You have unlocked: Maybe Not Yet

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Diary entry Extra · not in the book

Maybe Not Yet

Ethan

Dear me,

I wish someone would hand me a map.

Not one that tells me where to go, exactly. Just one that explains why everyone else seems to know who they are while I'm still trying to work out what all these feelings mean.

Sometimes I think I should have answers by now.

Sometimes I think if I don't name something, it can't change anything.

But things are already changing.

I notice the way I feel when Jamie isn't around. I notice when he laughs at someone else's joke. I notice how easy it is to tell him things and how difficult it is to explain why I want to.

I don't know what that makes me.

Maybe I don't need to know today.

Maybe I can be confused without being broken. Maybe I can take my time without making promises I don't understand yet.

I keep thinking that figuring yourself out should feel like discovering something obvious.

But what if it feels like being lost first?

What if the answer doesn't arrive all at once?

For now, I think I'll let myself not know.

Just for today.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Maybe not yet is an answer, too.

- Ethan

The story behind the letter

Ethan had always believed that when something mattered, you were supposed to know what to do about it.

You apologised when you made a mistake. You helped when someone needed you. You told the truth, even when it was difficult.

Simple.

Except nothing about Jamie felt simple anymore.

Ethan knew Jamie mattered to him. That much was obvious. He cared when Jamie was quiet, noticed when his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and wanted to make things better even when he had no idea how.

But caring about someone and understanding what that care meant were two different things.

Ethan wasn't ready to pretend otherwise.

He worried about giving Jamie the wrong idea. He worried about saying something he couldn't take back. And beneath all of that was a quieter fear: what if he kept searching for an answer and discovered that he didn't understand himself as well as he thought he did?

He couldn't ask anyone else to make sense of it for him.

So he wrote to himself.

The letter wasn't a declaration or a decision. It was a reminder that he was allowed to be uncertain, even when uncertainty made him uncomfortable.

He didn't have to force an answer just because someone else might want one. He didn't have to make promises to prove that he cared. And he didn't have to decide who he was before he was ready to understand it.

When Ethan finished writing, he felt no sudden clarity.

He still had questions.

Jamie still mattered.

And the future still felt like something he could see only in pieces.

Ethan folded the letter and put it somewhere safe.

Maybe one day, he would read it again and understand what he couldn't understand now.

For the moment, he had only one honest answer.

Maybe not yet.

- Armand