By the time you read this, if you ever have the misfortune to read this--which I sincerely hope you don't--but if you do, I hope you're reading this as Doctor Hermann Gottlieb-Geiszler. Well, actually, you ARE Doctor Hermann Gottlieb-Geiszler now, because I was NOT about to miss that chance, but I hope we've kicked March 2017's ass and redid it in style anyway. We deserve that.
Anyway.
Hermann, if you're reading this updated letter, it means I've probably disappeared or am otherwise not with you. You've found the box, or rather, you've OPENED the box that's been in our closet--or wherever I'm keeping this now when we move into our new house.
So.
First thing's first: Okay. Confession time: I'm a sentimental idiot. If you didn't know that before, you're going to find that out now.
Surprise! Yes. Here's where your sweater disappeared to. No, you didn't leave at work. I borrowed--er, stole it. I was keeping it in my room. Look, it's a NICE sweater and it feels so soft and I wanted it. You were wearing it to one of our coffee shop "frienddates" and--
YOU looked so soft in it. (You're a stunner in maroon, by the way. It warms your eyes up really nice. Really really dug the jacket you wore on our first official date.) I'm sorry I spilled tea on your sweater at our frienddate lunch. I'm NOT sorry I helped mop it off you. I AM sorry I didn't realize THEN that I should steal the sweater. Or date you. Or suggest you take off that sweater because it was wet now and so you should just take it off. Maybe wear my jacket. Maybe come back to my place while I launder it for you.
...You know. Things I should have realized.
I guess our subconscious does a lot of realizing things. I mean, I held onto a lot of stuff. Okay, yes, maybe it looks like junk, but you know, that was our hotel room key from Hong Kong. You don't just throw those things away.
I don't know where I was going with this.
I don't really want to write this letter again, Hermann, because every time I update this, it feels like I'm making it more and more of a reality that I might port out and leave you--or vice versa. But I owe you this letter.
In all the time we knew each other, even when we thought we hated each other, I really adored you. You occupied on average at least 50% of my thoughts from the moment we made contact. Usually the number was closer to 75%. Those are bullshit numbers, actually, but you know what I mean.
You were
You are one of my obsessions, Hermann. I will always always want to know everything about you. The Dri What we have here offers me unparalleled access to know you, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.
But that means I know, if you're reading this, I know a fraction of what you must be feeling.
And I'm sorry, Hermann.
I wanted to marry you because I couldn't stand the thought of a day going by without you in my life somehow. Our time together, from letters, to Hong Kong, to here...has been the time of my life. There is no one else I could do this with.
You make me happy. I want to make you happy, and I hope I have. I hope you can look at what we've been together and think--Damn, Newton and I had some great times. We did some great things. I hope that if you're having to read this, there's maybe hope that we'll see each other again back home with these memories of ours intact...and continue what we started?
Fuck, this letter is awful, but today's our you-know-what anniversary, and you're asleep and all I can think about is how much I care about you and how much I want you to know that. Because Gregor is gone, and because once, not very long ago, I thought I might just die doing a dumb, reckless, idiotic, fucking-terrible thing by myself and I left you a spiteful goodbye. And that was shitty of me. And with everything we've become, everything we've learned about ourselves and each other, I don't want to leave you that, or with nothing, or even with whatever it was I last said to you--whether it was goodnight or I love you, or whatever--before I vanished.
I want to leave you something that'll console you.
...Data. I guess.
So I've backed up the entirety of my phone onto a micro card I've included in this box. It's current up to today, January 9th. I don't know if it'll offer you anything, but it means access to literally everything I've done with it. Messages, calls, videos, photos. There's Qubit, Joaquin... Hiro, Sophie--there's plenty of you, me, and Liebling. Maybe that will help, even a little. Cushion the blow. My life with you--you're privvy to everything I am, man. Everything mine is yours.
It's password protected. If you can't guess or hack it, you're just not my nerd.
I can't make you any promises that I'll see you again in this world, but I WILL see you again in our home world, and that'll have to be enough of a promise for now.
[The entirety of Newt's phone including all its location data, contacts, photos, and messages, etc. Among the phone files are also the following:]
[PHOTO: A photo of a doodle of Hermann's face done on a napkin. The restaurant is one they frequently ate lunch at while working at Starktech.]
[PHOTO: A photo of a freshly tattooed Newton shoulder and grinning Newt. Timestamp places it mid 2016. The tattoo is Hermann's signature.]
[VIDEO: A short video clip of Hermann washing dishes at the sink in their shared apartment, filmed from well outside the doorway to the kitchen. That's it.]
[VIDEO: A video of Liebling as she climbs on the sofa and meows softly at Newt. Newt coos back at her and asks her what she wants, repeatedly, talking to himself as he suggests that she wants Hermann, or food--which she's just eaten--etc.]
[VIDEO: Hermann writing on the chalkboard, doing math.]
[VIDEO: Newt taking a video with the front-facing camera on the phone (so he sees himself as he's filming himself). He's dressed in the parka with the hood over his head, obscuring most of it.]
[PHOTOS: A series of photos of Newt trying different eye-glass frames at the optometrist's office.]
[VIDEO: A long video of the entirety of one grocery shopping trip with the two of them. Includes multiple arguments (or one continuous one, depending on how you think about it)]
[PHOTO: Hermann still asleep in bed. More affectionate in nature than sexy.]
[PHOTO: The land for their house.]
[PHOTO: Hermann, cheeks pink from the cold, standing by a sign on the MIT campus.]
[AUDIO: Piano, a lively, jazzy, perky piece: Tea For Two, as by Art Tatum, played by Newt on a piano in a cafe.]
[PHOTO: A paper coffee cup with a carefully spelled out "Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler" written on it by the barista, indicating it's Newt's. Newt's in the frame, grinning and pointing at the cup. The barista in the background doesn't know what to make of him.]
[PHOTO: Newt's room in their apartment. Timestamp indicates it was before Sophie moved in. The room is messy, but feels unused.]
[PHOTO: Hermann's apartment door...the apartment before they moved to De Chima.]
[AUDIO: A Chinese love song music file, one they danced to in their Hong Kong hotel room.]
- the letter. - one maroon sweater, slightly dusty. - one paper coffee cup, dry, but stained with coffee. "Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler" written carefully in marker on the outside. - one spare key for a Maurita Falls apartment, formerly resided in by Hermann. - one pad of paper with the letterhead for a De Chima hotel. Various notes are taken on the pages, including a draft of Newt's vows (written in March) - one hotel room keycard for a Hong Kong hotel. - one mask (Newt's) from the masquerade. - one receipt from a taxi ride. - one printed copy of their (2016) New Year's Eve kiss in Time Square. - one pair of underwear purchased for use with Will Graham's New Years 2017 gift; used, but washed. - several recipe cards, written by Newt, for some of Hermann's favorites as Newt's prepared and cooked them (includes: shrimp carbonara, stir fry, salmon, a favorite salad dressing, and a fruit tart). The recipes are meticulously written out by hand, and each includes its own type-written shopping list, with store aisle, brand, and product size included. They're rubber-banded together and a post-it on the top says simply PLEASE REMEMBER TO EAT.
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Last updated: January 9, 2017
Date: 2017-04-08 05:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-08 05:39 am (UTC)Dear Doctor Hermann Gottlieb:
By the time you read this, if you ever have the misfortune to read this--which I sincerely hope you don't--but if you do, I hope you're reading this as Doctor Hermann Gottlieb-Geiszler. Well, actually, you ARE Doctor Hermann Gottlieb-Geiszler now, because I was NOT about to miss that chance, but I hope we've kicked March 2017's ass and redid it in style anyway. We deserve that.
Anyway.
Hermann, if you're reading this updated letter, it means I've probably disappeared or am otherwise not with you. You've found the box, or rather, you've OPENED the box that's been in our closet--or wherever I'm keeping this now when we move into our new house.
So.
First thing's first: Okay. Confession time: I'm a sentimental idiot. If you didn't know that before, you're going to find that out now.
Surprise! Yes. Here's where your sweater disappeared to. No, you didn't leave at work. I borrowed--er, stole it. I was keeping it in my room. Look, it's a NICE sweater and it feels so soft and I wanted it. You were wearing it to one of our coffee shop "frienddates" and--
YOU looked so soft in it. (You're a stunner in maroon, by the way. It warms your eyes up really nice. Really really dug the jacket you wore on our first official date.) I'm sorry I spilled tea on your sweater at our frienddate lunch. I'm NOT sorry I helped mop it off you. I AM sorry I didn't realize THEN that I should steal the sweater. Or date you. Or suggest you take off that sweater because it was wet now and so you should just take it off. Maybe wear my jacket. Maybe come back to my place while I launder it for you.
...You know. Things I should have realized.
I guess our subconscious does a lot of realizing things. I mean, I held onto a lot of stuff. Okay, yes, maybe it looks like junk, but you know, that was our hotel room key from Hong Kong. You don't just throw those things away.
I don't know where I was going with this.
I don't really want to write this letter again, Hermann, because every time I update this, it feels like I'm making it more and more of a reality that I might port out and leave you--or vice versa. But I owe you this letter.
In all the time we knew each other, even when we thought we hated each other, I really adored you. You occupied on average at least 50% of my thoughts from the moment we made contact. Usually the number was closer to 75%. Those are bullshit numbers, actually, but you know what I mean.
You were
You are one of my obsessions, Hermann. I will always always want to know everything about you. The Dri What we have here offers me unparalleled access to know you, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.
But that means I know, if you're reading this, I know a fraction of what you must be feeling.
And I'm sorry, Hermann.
I wanted to marry you because I couldn't stand the thought of a day going by without you in my life somehow. Our time together, from letters, to Hong Kong, to here...has been the time of my life. There is no one else I could do this with.
You make me happy. I want to make you happy, and I hope I have. I hope you can look at what we've been together and think--Damn, Newton and I had some great times. We did some great things. I hope that if you're having to read this, there's maybe hope that we'll see each other again back home with these memories of ours intact...and continue what we started?
Fuck, this letter is awful, but today's our you-know-what anniversary, and you're asleep and all I can think about is how much I care about you and how much I want you to know that. Because Gregor is gone, and because once, not very long ago, I thought I might just die doing a dumb, reckless, idiotic, fucking-terrible thing by myself and I left you a spiteful goodbye. And that was shitty of me. And with everything we've become, everything we've learned about ourselves and each other, I don't want to leave you that, or with nothing, or even with whatever it was I last said to you--whether it was goodnight or I love you, or whatever--before I vanished.
I want to leave you something that'll console you.
...Data. I guess.
So I've backed up the entirety of my phone onto a micro card I've included in this box. It's current up to today, January 9th. I don't know if it'll offer you anything, but it means access to literally everything I've done with it. Messages, calls, videos, photos. There's Qubit, Joaquin... Hiro, Sophie--there's plenty of you, me, and Liebling. Maybe that will help, even a little. Cushion the blow. My life with you--you're privvy to everything I am, man. Everything mine is yours.
It's password protected. If you can't guess or hack it, you're just not my nerd.
I can't make you any promises that I'll see you again in this world, but I WILL see you again in our home world, and that'll have to be enough of a promise for now.
I'll see you there, and we'll make this work.
Fortune favors the brave, Space Champion.
Kick ass, Hermann.
- Newton
[[ ON THE PHONE-BACKUP SDCARD ]]
Date: 2017-04-08 05:43 am (UTC)[PHOTO: A photo of a doodle of Hermann's face done on a napkin. The restaurant is one they frequently ate lunch at while working at Starktech.]
[PHOTO: A photo of a freshly tattooed Newton shoulder and grinning Newt. Timestamp places it mid 2016. The tattoo is Hermann's signature.]
[VIDEO: A short video clip of Hermann washing dishes at the sink in their shared apartment, filmed from well outside the doorway to the kitchen. That's it.]
[VIDEO: A video of Liebling as she climbs on the sofa and meows softly at Newt. Newt coos back at her and asks her what she wants, repeatedly, talking to himself as he suggests that she wants Hermann, or food--which she's just eaten--etc.]
[VIDEO: Hermann writing on the chalkboard, doing math.]
[VIDEO: Newt taking a video with the front-facing camera on the phone (so he sees himself as he's filming himself). He's dressed in the parka with the hood over his head, obscuring most of it.]
[PHOTOS: A series of photos of Newt trying different eye-glass frames at the optometrist's office.]
[VIDEO: A long video of the entirety of one grocery shopping trip with the two of them. Includes multiple arguments (or one continuous one, depending on how you think about it)]
[PHOTO: Hermann still asleep in bed. More affectionate in nature than sexy.]
[PHOTO: The land for their house.]
[PHOTO: Hermann, cheeks pink from the cold, standing by a sign on the MIT campus.]
[AUDIO: Piano, a lively, jazzy, perky piece: Tea For Two, as by Art Tatum, played by Newt on a piano in a cafe.]
[PHOTO: A paper coffee cup with a carefully spelled out "Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler" written on it by the barista, indicating it's Newt's. Newt's in the frame, grinning and pointing at the cup. The barista in the background doesn't know what to make of him.]
[PHOTO: Newt's room in their apartment. Timestamp indicates it was before Sophie moved in. The room is messy, but feels unused.]
[PHOTO: Hermann's apartment door...the apartment before they moved to De Chima.]
[AUDIO: A Chinese love song music file, one they danced to in their Hong Kong hotel room.]
[[ IN THE BOX ]]
Date: 2017-04-08 05:57 am (UTC)- one maroon sweater, slightly dusty.
- one paper coffee cup, dry, but stained with coffee. "Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler" written carefully in marker on the outside.
- one spare key for a Maurita Falls apartment, formerly resided in by Hermann.
- one pad of paper with the letterhead for a De Chima hotel. Various notes are taken on the pages, including a draft of Newt's vows (written in March)
- one hotel room keycard for a Hong Kong hotel.
- one mask (Newt's) from the masquerade.
- one receipt from a taxi ride.
- one printed copy of their (2016) New Year's Eve kiss in Time Square.
- one pair of underwear purchased for use with Will Graham's New Years 2017 gift; used, but washed.
- several recipe cards, written by Newt, for some of Hermann's favorites as Newt's prepared and cooked them (includes: shrimp carbonara, stir fry, salmon, a favorite salad dressing, and a fruit tart). The recipes are meticulously written out by hand, and each includes its own type-written shopping list, with store aisle, brand, and product size included. They're rubber-banded together and a post-it on the top says simply PLEASE REMEMBER TO EAT.