T. S. Eliot — The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock

Brooks Salzwedel creates sublime images of nature and industrial development co-existing

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🩹💕💌💋🧸☕️

LOST.

Love you 3000❤️

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Voicemail #46

To: Peter Parker

From: Tony Stark

Peter. Hey, kid.

I’ve been home for a month. It’s felt like longer than that. But, at the same time, I wake up each morning and reality hits me the same way each time. Like a sucker punch to the gut. By the Hulk. When he’s angry.

Speaking of Banner, I haven’t seen him or… well, anyone else lately. Natasha, Steve, nobody. They all stopped dropping by after the third week. Figured it was best and, well, they weren’t wrong. They think I’m broken. And I am. We all are, some way or another. Because it’s the end of the world and even the Avengers don’t know what to do about it.

The thing is, it wasn’t the end of the world that broke me- it was you. Which is crazy because… well, were we ever really that close? Did you mean anything more to me than just some kid I coerced into being part of my little superhero experiment? I don’t know but it sure as hell feels like it each night when I listen to all those voicemails you left me and wish I picked up every single one. Your death- it broke me because you became more than just some kid. So now that you’re gone, it hurts like hell.

The more I think of you, the more I know what you’d want me to do. To save those remaining, to fix what’s left. But that’s what you would do. I can’t even fix myself. I haven’t left home since… well, since I visited you. Your apartment, really. I went to see your aunt, to tell her- But she’s gone. The door was slightly open and a purse was scattered on the ground like someone had been leaving but… disappeared. I tried not to think about it.

Instead I sat on your bed like I did those years ago, except back then you had been there beside me. It wasn’t until I was about to leave that I noticed the photograph on your bookshelf. I remember posing for it with you, at the Stark Internship. I didn’t realize you were going to frame it. I hope you don’t mind that I took it with me.

Before I left, I wrote a note and stuck it on your fridge. Just a phone number. In case your aunt didn’t- in case she comes back. But deep down, I hope she’s with you. For her sake. So she wouldn’t have to go through losing a child like…

…like I do.

I miss you, Peter.

I miss you.

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