She wanted to know who did my tattoo since I’m only sixteen, but I refused to tell her. I’m surprised she didn’t guess because I’m pretty sure it was just last month that I mentioned Andrew’s older brother was a tattoo artist.

Anyway. She was upset, but I swore to her I wouldn’t get another one. She told me to make sure I never take off my shirt in front of Dad.

I’m still a little shocked we both went through with it. I was half-kidding when I said we should do it, but when you seemed excited, I realized how serious I was. I know people say to never get a tattoo in honor of someone you’re in a relationship with, and I know we’re only sixteen, but I just don’t see anything ever happening in this life that could make me not want you all over my skin.

I’ll never love anyone like I love you. And if the worst is to ever happen and we do grow apart, I’ll never regret this tattoo. You’ve been a huge part of my life for the sixteen years I’ve been alive, and whether we end up together in the end or not, I want to remember this part of my life. And maybe these tattoos were more of a commemorative thing than an assumption that we’ll spend the rest of our lives together. Either way, I’d hope that fifteen years from now, we will look at these tattoos and be grateful for this chapter in our lives, and there won’t be an ounce of regret. Whether we’re together or not.

I will say, I think you’re much tougher than me. I was expecting to have to be the one to calm you down and reassure you that the pain was only temporary, but it turned out to be the other way around. Maybe mine hurt more than yours. ;)

Okay, it’s late. I’m about to call you and tell you goodnight, but true to form, I had to get all my thoughts out to you in a letter first. I know I’ve said it before, but I love that we still write letters to each other. Texts get deleted and conversations fade, but I swear I’ll have every single letter you’ve ever written me until the day I die. #SnailMailForever

I love you. Enough to camouflage you into my skin.

Never stop. Never forget.

~Silas

I glance across the seat at Silas, but he’s engrossed in his own reading. I would like to see this tattoo in person, but I don’t feel comfortable enough yet to ask him to take off his shirt.

I flip through more letters until I find one I’ve written to him. I’m curious to see if I’m half as in love as he seems to be.

Silas,

I can’t stop thinking about the other night when we kissed. Or your letter explaining how you felt about it.

I’d never kissed anyone before. I didn’t close my eyes. I was too scared. In movies they close their eyes, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I wanted to know if your eyes were closed, and what your lips looked like when they pressed against mine. And I wanted to know what time it was so I could always remember the exact moment we had our first kiss (it was 11:00 o’clock, by the way). And you kept your eyes closed the entire time.

After I left, I went home and I just stared at the wall for an hour. I could still feel your mouth on mine even if you weren’t there anymore. It was crazy and I don’t know if that’s supposed to happen. And I’m sorry I ignored all your phone calls after that. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed time. You know that about me. I have to process everything, and I have to do it alone. And you kissing me was something that definitely needed processing. I’ve wanted this to happen for a long time, but I know our parents are going to think we’re crazy. I’ve heard my mother say people can’t really be in love when you’re our age, but I don’t think that’s true. Adults like to pretend that our feelings aren’t as big and important as theirs—that we’re too young to really know what we want. But I think what we want is similar to what they want. We want to find someone who believes in us. Who will take our side and make us feel less lonely.

I’m so scared that something will happen and it will change the fact that you’re my best friend. We both know there are a lot of people who call themselves your friends and then don’t act like it, but you’ve never been that way. I’m totally like rambling. I really like you, Silas. Like so much. Maybe more than green apple cotton candy, and the pink NERDS, and even SPRITE! Yeah, you heard me.

Charlie

It’s sweet. I was sweet—a girl falling for a guy for the first time. I wish I could remember what the first kiss felt like. I wonder if we did more than just kiss? I flip through more letters, scanning over each of them. I come to one with a word in it that catches my eye.

Dear Silas,

I’ve been trying to write this letter for like thirty minutes and I don’t know how to say any of it. I guess I just have to find a way, huh? You always say things so well and I’m always the tongue-tied one.