Donny has loved his friend Greg for years but never told him. They shared one brief night together before Greg married Megan and Donny ... well, Donny tried to move on.
He thinks he's succeeded in relegating Greg to the past until he receives a postcard from his friend that suggests Greg still thinks of that night, too.
The postcard is waiting for me when I get home from work. It’s tucked in with a few bills, a letter from my mom, and an ad from Wal-Mart that I just toss away. The letter I put aside, and I shuffle through the bills, disinterested. Then I see it.
A glossy beach at sunset, a couple holding hands, walking along the surf. Love in L.A., it reads in a flourish script across the orange sun. I don’t know anyone in Los Angeles. I turn the postcard over, and my heart freezes at the tight black words scrawled on the other side.
I miss you. Everything about you. About us. I hate living this lie.
My address in the block letters I remember so well. A smudged thumbprint beneath the stamp. The cryptic message -- I miss you -- and nothing else. No return address. Nothing to tell me who it’s from.
As if I didn’t know. My throat closes as I read the message again. I miss you.
Jesus, I think. I miss you, too, Greg. Where the hell are you now?