I'll never send this because, well...if you weren't totally disturbed you'd definitely laugh, so I'll just write this letter because I have to get it out and maybe if I do I'll feel better.
I miss you, Dean. I miss you so badly it hurts sometimes. I'll come back to the apartment after classes and Jessica comes up and wraps her arms around me and she's so soft and sweet and smells like lilies, and all I want is the smell of you, gun oil and smoke, and I want her soft arms to be your strong arms, holding me tightly and telling me everything's gonna be okay.
I've been having these dreams about you. Sometimes in my dreams we...well, we do things, Dean. Sometimes you're kissing me in ways that we really shouldn't be kissing, or you're kneeling in front of me taking care of me - and your mouth feels so good, so hot and perfect, and your lips look so beautiful like that, wrapped around my cock, right where they should be. Sometimes you're making love to me, taking care of me that way, thrusting slow and firm right into me, my legs around your knees, staring into your eyes and we're kissing again in those ways that we shouldn't be...
But that's not all, Dean. Sometimes I wake up from these dreams hard and wanting and then Jessica is the one there, and she smiles that devilish smile and goes down on me and I close my eyes and imagine she's you. I wish she were you.
I can't stand how much I miss you, Dean. I wish I could tell you. I wish you could know. But I guess I'll just have to content myself with a letter you'll never read, a letter that, as soon as I'm done writing, I'll toss in the sink with a match and some lighter fluid.
I miss you. I want you. I need you.