11 - a deceased person you wish you could talk to

Dear you,

I wish you were still here. It's kind of ironic that this number is a year younger than you would be right now, and a year older than you'll ever be. Tuesday will be two years and a month since you died, and I wish I could say something corny like I think about you every day, or everything I do, I do with you in mind, but I don't. I guess in my head, you're still here. I never got a chance to mourn; it wasn't something I let myself do, and it most certainly wasn't something my parents were about to help me with.

I guess the reason I wish I could talk to you is to tell you how sorry I am. I know I don't have any need to be, that nothing I did could have caused or prevented anything, but I am. Our situations were exactly the same, and for the life of me, as much as I try to understand it, I don't know why it was you and not me. I know it's wrong to say that sometimes I wish it was me instead of you, but I do. I had four years on you, and a family that was already broken.

I also want to say goodbye. I never got to. I never let myself feel anything, and goodbyes were part of that package. I wonder if I wouldn't be as fucked up now if I had been able to say goodbye; not just to you, but to everyone who's up there with you. (Which, as I come to think of it, is also eleven.)

And I want to know what it was like. I know that's morbid, but I do. I want to make sure you weren't scared, I want to make sure that you weren't in pain, but I also want to know for myself, so that I know when my time comes, and I want to know that dying wasn't you giving up. That you were fighting until the last second, and in the end, you just... lost. I know it sounds bad, but I just... I want to know. I want to be able to say goodbye, and I want to be able to say I'm sorry, and that I love you, and ask you if you did all that you could.

But mostly I just miss you.

Love,
me.

10 - someone you don't talk to as much as you'd like

Dear you,

I don't really know why we don't talk anymore. I guess it's because we were never really friends, I just wanted us to be. And I know that that actually means that this letter probably shouldn't be for you, but whatever. I'm done with shoulds.

I hope you know that I really did want us to be friends. And I would've been a damn good friend, too. I wish we talked more, because than maybe you'd get it. But whenever I try to chat with you, you're always busy. I don't know if it's you blowing me off, or what, but it kinda sucks. So I've basically stopped trying. I think I've figured it out, though. You're a happy person, a shiny person, a good-times girl. I don't know how to be shiny, I don't know how to deal with shiny people. You need a guy to feel validated, I wouldn't even know how to let a guy be my sole source of validation. We're two entirely different people at totally different points in our life, and while we tried to intersect for a while, and even though when we do talk, we have interesting conversations, we don't talk often enough to be considered more than "acquaintances." Maybe this will change in the years to come, but maybe we'll just always be each others "maybes."

Love,
me.

9 - someone you wish you could meet

Dear you,

I guess I could start this off by saying I'm you're biggest fan, but I'm sure that's not true. I'm not particularly overweight, so it's a no on the literal sense, and there are probably people who have done insanely dangerous and stupid things to try and get to meet you, so it's a no in the metaphorical sense, as well. But I still wish I could meet you.

There are a lot of you I'm writing to right now. Namely, every person I have ever wished to meet. Ever. Because how do you choose just one? I don't want to meet someone that will be an ass. I don't want to waste my time coming to meet you if you're going to be a jerk, and autograph a picture, making it out to a Heather when I told you my name was Hannah.

But all of you, I do wish I could meet you. I want to know what you're like. I know we'll probably never meet, and it's probably for the better. I've got the idea of you, and I like that, so why ruin it with reality?

Love,
me.

8 - Your favorite internet friend

Dear you,

This is another one that's quite hard to choose. I have made quite a few friends only on the internet, though I admit, I've met most of them by now, even the one that I met at almost the exact same time as you. Really, there are only two or three other ones that I still like and haven't met yet. But they qualify for more than one. And so do you, really, but I decided to write this one to you, because it just seemed to fit. Especially since we're talking so much lately.

I have to admit, sometimes talking to you makes me feel kind of like a whore. Because you usually have a girlfriend. And I, as usual, am perpetually single. And we flirt. I don't know if it's because we've never met, and so it's comfortable to flirt like this, or if it's because we actually have real chemistry that we just haven't figured out how to deal with yet. Either way, we flirt a ridiculous amount. And I know it's not just in my head.

But this is getting off-track. The point is, you are my favorite internet-turned-texting friend, and hopefully, we'll be able to organize a meet up between you and I wicked soon. Because it's a bit ridiculous that we've been talking for three years, on and off, and never met. ESPECIALLY with all the flirtiness that goes on between us. (Here I go, getting off track again.) Every time I talk to you, I feel better. I love talking about awesome bands and musicians and TV shows and people and bucket lists with you. You make me feel comfortable being myself, even if you judge me for liking gangster rap. :) I promise, when we finally meet, it will be amazingly epic. And, like I said, if you're still cold then, I'll share my blankets with you until you just love me so much that you have to agree to the road trip I proposed. :)

Love,

me.

6. a stranger

Dear you,

I wonder about you, you know. What you think about when you see me. If you look at me for an extra second while I'm unaware, the same way I do with you. I wonder if you see me as who I really am, instead of who I usually am pretending to be.

When I see you, I wonder if we would be friends. I either decide yes or no, because I'm human and I have a tendency to judge people. If yes... well, I'm sorry, but you may be in for some awkward conversation. I like to talk to people. I like to make friends with people. I want to feel connected in some way.

I wonder if you do the same things. I want to know what your story is. I want to know the reasoning behind this chanced meeting, if we were meant to meet and make something of it.

Not-really-knowing-how-to-sign-this,
me.

5. your dreams

Dear you,

I'm sure you know this, but I'm saying it anyway. We have a love/hate relationship. I love thinking about you, I love the places you take me; you're basically my every fantasy, everything I ever even semi-wanted.

But I hate you. Because unfortunately for us, I am a realist with pessimistic tendencies. I know that the majority of the time, what you show me and tell me is possible, isn't. Talking about the future has always scared me, and that's all you want from me. Sure, it's great when we're there, but what about when we have to come back to the present? You just get to walk away unscathed, preparing to come back later, whereas I have to deal with the reality of it.

It's not helpful.

Love,
me.

Day 3 - Your parents

Dear you two,

I have very little to say to either of you, as it turns out.

Parent one - I honestly think that if you died, the only thing that would make me upset was the fact that I wasn't upset. I'm sure I'd be upset a bit, but nothing compared to what happened when friends died.

Parent two - you're my best friend. I'm sorry I was so horrible to you those two years, it was a mistake on my part, and some serious hoodwinking on your counterparts.

-me.

Day 2 - Your crush

Dear you,

First off, let me say I hope I meet you soon, because crushing on a figment of my imagination is not doing wonders for my sanity. Neither is your ever-changing appearance, in case you were wondering.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's move on. I hope this letter finds you well, and my other brain-figments aren't giving you too much of a hard time. [Because let's face it - they're my brain-figments, there's no way they aren't giving you any trouble.] They're just going to have to get used to you, though, because I don't think you're going away any time soon.

Let's now move on to the things I like about you, the things that make you "crush worthy." I could probably go on for hours and millions of numbers, and I'm sure you'd like that, because what guy doesn't like to have his ego stroked, but I'll limit myself to your top ten.

1. Your accent. We all know I have a fetish for them, but your all-American southern Alabama accent just takes the apple pie.
2. Your hair, in particular the scruff around your face, though the "a little longer and it'll be shaggy" golden brown hair atop your head ain't hurting, either.
3. Is it bad to say your size? Because honey, I absolutely adore the fact that you're a foot taller than me and you can pick me up like I was a down comforter. 
4. The way you protect me. I may be one of the biggest feminists you will ever meet, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good to have your glances harden and your hand take mine every time some skeezeball looks for a second too long.
5. I'd also be lying if I said I didn't swoon each time you picked up a guitar. I know it's cliche, but hey - it's definitely working for you.
6. The way you make me feel like I am the only one who merits your attention, the only thing in the room that's happening worth any sort of focus. I feel like the world could be ending while I'm telling you some stupid story about what happened to me, and you wouldn't even notice. Gotta love a guy who pays attention.
7. The fact that you actually pay attention to your surroundings. I know that totally contradicts what I just said, but I mean it in a different way. You read the paper. You read books - god, I can't tell you how hard it is to find an attractive guy who actually reads books. Believe me - I've tried. 
8. Your humor, and the fact that you actually get mine. 
9. The fact that being with you doesn't come with any drama attached at the hip. 
10. Everything about you. Yeah, I know it's stupid, but hey, it's true. 

Is it too weird to say that I've already pictured how we'll meet, and what our first date will be like? If you were pondering it, this is how it'll play out.

You'll come into the store, and I'll have my eye on you, because I think you're cute. You'll be eyeing me a bit, too, and we'll occasionally make eye contact, and when we do, I'll look down and smile, embarrassed to be caught ogling the customers. You'll wait a good five minutes or so before coming over to the counter and asking me for some good recommendations. I'll smile with my entire face, and bounce along the wall of books, pointing out the ones I like, and the ones I think you'll like. I'll be overly flirty, but you won't care, because you find it kind of endearing. You'll thank me, and go sit down with the pile of books I just handed you, trying to make your decision. In the end, you'll choose two: the John Green book I absolutely raved about, and the Jonathan Tropper book from downstairs that I told you you had to read, as well. You'll come back upstairs to my register under the guise of making sure that the book you picked up was the right one, and we'll start talking again. You'll ask me about my favorite authors, and I'll tell you that I can't pick just one. You'll tell me that you feel the same way, and somehow, because it always does with me, we'll get to the subject of Harry Potter. I'll tell you about A Very Potter Musical, which won't sound as interesting as it should to you, but you'll say you'll go home and watch it anyway. I'll grin when you say that you will, and tell you that you'll have to come back in and tell me what you thought. You'll nod, and say that you don't know when you'll be able to make it back in though, because you've just moved here, and you have to help your family settle in. The act of kindness towards your family will make me swoon a little bit, and I'll offer to show you, and even your family, around the island if you want. You'll nod again and say that that would be great, and I'll scribble my number down on the back of your receipt.

A few days later, my phone will ring, and it'll be you. School is starting in a few days, you'll say, and I'll have to be going back off to college. It's my freshman year, you see. I'll understand, and say that that's too bad, and that I wish you could stay longer, but what is the point of this call if you're leaving soon? You'll be silent for a few seconds, and I'll worry that I was being too forward, but eventually you'll chuckle and say that I caught you, that you were calling to ask me out to dinner if it wouldn't be too much of a bother.

I, of course, will accept, and bring you to my favorite restaurant, where we'll talk about everything. You'll admit to not having watched the youtube sensation I told you to yet, and I'll tease you relentlessly throughout the entire meal. At the end of the night, you'll drive me home, and you'll grab my hand as soon as you start the car. You'll walk me up to my doorstep, and say that you had a really amazing time tonight, and that we need to do it again soon. I'll agree, and you'll kiss me softly on the lips before turning and leaving, and we'll all live happily ever after.

The end.

Now doesn't that just sound like perfection? So let's work on making this dream a reality, shall we?

Love,
me

Day 1 - letter to your best friend

Dear you,

Hi. I'm hoping you know who you are, and if you don't already, you'll know by the end of this letter. I had a hard time picking which close friend to use for this letter, but in the end, it was you, because not only have we been friends the longest, we've been through the most amount of shit together.

So here we are. This is my letter to you. I feel odd typing it, since I don't normally type letters, but I am since I'm posting it on da blog. Which I don't even think you read. But okay. Here it really goes.

How are you doing at this moment? We've exchanged a few words today, but they were mostly about me, and now I'm feeling bad again about that :p I've been thinking about our friendship a lot lately, so that's actually probably going to be most of what this letter is about.

I think it's best put as saying that our friendship is intense. Extremely intense. We met under odd circumstances, and we went through some of the hardest times in my life together. Times that I honestly don't think I would have made it through as well as I did without you to lean on. The other night you were telling me how much I meant to you, and I felt... I don't know. I felt wanted, needed, appreciated, and I can't tell you how valuable those feelings are to me, though I think you probably already know.

You are the one person in the world who I feel like I can talk to about anything. You're the one person in the world who didn't treat me the least bit different when you found out that I had had cancer. You're the only one who I can count on to be there, and not get scared away. There have been times when all I've wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor of my room, and sob until my eyes were crimson and I passed out from dehydration, and then I'd talk to you, and somehow, you would make it all better, even though sometimes, you contributed to it. But it's like one of the lead singers of my favorite guilty pleasure bands said - "The closest friends you'll have are the ones that you'd take a bullet for, but they're the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well."

I love that we talk about our problems together. I love that we talk about random things until two in the morning. I love debating good bands and bad ones that are complete guilty pleasures. I love it when you text me with something totally random, just because you think I'll enjoy it. I love your jokes - well, the funny ones. Mostly, I love being your friend, and I love that you give me a chance to be myself without any repercussions or judgments.

This letter is a mess. A wicked messy mushy mess. So I'm going to add in the lyrics to Weezer's lyrics to "My Best Friend." Every time I listen to this song I almost start crying, and it reminds me of you. A ton.

Love you, kid,
me.

When everything is wrong I'll come talk to you
You make things alright when I'm feeling blue

You are such a blessing and I wont be messing
with the one thing that brings light to all my darkness

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

There is no other one who can take your place
I feel happy inside when I see your face
I hope you believe me
'Cause I speak sincerely
and I mean it when I tell you that I need you

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

I'm here right beside you
I will never leave you
and I feel the pain you feel when you start crying

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do
Yes I do...
Yes I do.