I don't get it. I really don't. You tell me that I'm your best friend, and you let me call you mine. But why am I the only one giving right now? I get that you're having issues. I know you are. I know you're having a hard time of it. I know you are.
But so am I. And I love you. But this past week and a half, I've started to resent you. Because all I've needed was my best friend, someone to just be there for me and give me a hug, and tell me that I'm going to be okay. But you couldn't even do that for me. I don't want to bitch to you, I don't want to unload to you. You know that's not what I'm about. But I needed you to help me get my mind off of things. And for whatever reason, you were incapable of doing that.
I'm not saying I'm mad. (Well, I kind of am saying that. But I'm not really mad.) What I'm saying is that I'm just... I'm sad. 'Cause I believed you when you said that you would always be there for me. And now you've just... you've proven that everyone breaks their promises, at least once.
I still love you. I still think you're the best friend I could've asked for. I just... I guess I was hoping that human error didn't apply to you.
Friday, November 12, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
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.
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.
I need someone to crawl into bed with as I cry out these tears that just won't stop coming. I need someone to hold me close to them until all of my demons are forced out. I need someone who is willing to fight them off with me, to whisper the unkempt promise "it's going to be alright."" I need someone to look at me and just open their arms while I collapse,
Because right now, that's all I can do. Collapse.
Because right now, that's all I can do. Collapse.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
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