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Letter found in San Francisco among Clint Barton’s personal belongings following A-Day. The paper it’s written on appears to be ripped in half along the bottom and is believed to be the top half of item D1217. Other items found with L1217 include a receipt from Akshar’s Coffee Shop, dated October 2016, and an invoice for a SHIELD-grade bow with the initials “KB” engraved onto it, dated December 2019.
Item L1217 is dated sometime in late November 2017.
Clint,
I took forever trying to figure out how to start this. Not sure if you’re avoiding me because you know Nat told me about your thing against Monica or if you’re still upset about the dinner or what, but I’m done with calls and voicemails and texts and emails. I’m just done.
I am especially done with this whole “shutting everybody out when I get upset” thing. It’s bullshit, Clint! This isn’t how you maintain a friendship! And I’m done with it! Either you tell me what’s bothering you, like an adult, or you start losing people because you can’t be enough of a grown-up to express your feelings sometimes.
You know, after the accident and the Hulk, it felt like the whole world stopped trusting me. I mean, even Tony was wary of me for a while when I first joined the Avengers — and I don’t blame him. Hell, I don't even trust me now sometimes. But it was exhausting having to keep myself in check all the time, no matter how much I thought I needed to do it. No matter how much I understood other people’s fear of me, it didn’t change the fact that I knew I was under control. You have no idea how frustrating it is to see people constantly walk on eggshells around you because they are just so afraid of doing anything to upset you.
What I eventually came to realize was that it didn’t matter what I knew. It mattered what other people thought. And if other people were afraid of me, that took precedence over everything, no matter what. And that was what pissed me off more than anything. It was this cycle of “I know I’m fine,” to “But they think I’m not fine, which is fine,” to “Actually, no that’s not fine, that’s kind of bullshit, actually, because I am fine,” and over and over again. And that’s just how it was for me, for a really long time.
But when I met you — when I met you. Well, I don’t know if you were just that good at hiding your fear or if Tony was right and you were just stupid enough to not care. Either way it was a really nice change of pace to not have to monitor myself all the time. To feel like someone actually trusted me to know when I needed help or when I was fine on my own. And that comfort and trust has turned into one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. You’re my best friend, Clint! And I hate what is happening right now, but you won’t let it go and you won’t talk to anyone about it, and nothing gets solved.
So here we are. I’m tired, Clint. I cannot keep having this same argument with you again and again. I love Monica. I am so happy with her, happier than I’ve been in such a long time, maybe the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. And the only thing that could make me happier would be if you could pretend — just for me — that you were happy about it. Please. Because if you can’t do that, I really don’t see how we’re going to move forward.
There it is. That’s where we are now. I didn’t want it to get to this point, but you’ve left me very little choice here, so.
I’ve sat here for about fifteen minutes trying to think of a graceful way of signing this and I can’t so, I’m just ending it here. This is the end of this letter.
Item D1217, dated late November 2017. As stated above, it seems to have been torn off the bottom of item L1217. Item D1217 was found crumpled in Dr. Bruce Banner’s trash on December 2, 2017.
P.S. — Nat told me
P.S. — Nat implied that you
P.S. — Nat and I were talking the other day and she said something that implied something about the way you may have felt about me in the past. And I just want to say that if that was ever true, I am so sorry Clint. I am so sorry. If I had known