I'm way behind, but I want to catch up. I'll post the letters I want to share but put them on the date they were supposed to be up.
While writing this letter, I was surprisingly emotional. I even had to take a break because I started tearing up, and I'm too much of a #hardassthugtasticgangsta to cry and whatnot. But this letter was very therapeutic in a way. After writing "Hope You Die" and "Aggression" and other works that were very angry and accusatory, it was cool to let it all go, be open and honest about how I truly felt, to forgive and wish well.
I'm not going to put the person's name on it because I'm a punk, but I'm sure that anyone who knows me knows who this letter is for. Exhale.
Dear [YOU],
I haven’t talked to you in over four years at this point. I’ve seen your technological footprint on Twitter and Myspace, but I’ve never spoken, written, texted, messaged, or typed a word to you in over four years. If you told me this would be our relationship, or lack thereof, in 2005, I never would have believed it. We were close, very close.
But this is where we are. I don’t know who you are anymore; I don’t know the man who you grew into. I don’t know what you’re doing, how you are, or if you’re well. I don’t even know where you are. And it’s not because I don’t care. Shit like this just happens right?
I just never thought it’d be like this. I must admit that I’d been angry at you for years. I was angry that you told Nicole things like you were going to kiss me before we graduated, feeding into my already fantastic delusions of what things could be like between us. I was angry that you had sex with that girl in Andover; actually, I was devastated. The person I was at that time could not handle that kind of rejection. I tried to hold on to you in any way I could. I figured if I couldn’t be with you that we could still be friends. And I was angry that although you said that you felt Nicole and I were among those whom you felt you could be yourself with, you separated yourself from us, refused to be around us.
After realizing nothing would happen between us romantically, I was crushed by the end of our friendship. [YOU], I talked to you everyday. I remember you helping me through so many situations, including one instance of my brother telling me off. I remember you encouraging me as a writer, as a person. In such a fucked up time in my life, I remember you as a constant. I couldn’t understand your change during senior year that helped to create friction between us. I despised you for years for it.
As I grew older, though, I realized that I had taken none of the blame that I assigned to you. I was green in those days, so naïve, so desperate to be loved, and you didn’t owe that to me. You didn’t owe me anything. I was holding on to fantasies and dreams, trying to mold our relationship into them without realizing that it wasn’t what you or I needed.
We were kids, plain and simple.
You had your own issues, and I had mine. You sequestered yourself away from others and refused to let us in during your darkest moments. Ha. I guess we had, have more in common than I thought.
But I couldn’t continue to blame you for what I did. I loved you; I wanted you; I needed whatever I thought you could provide me. That wasn’t your obligation. I wanted reciprocation; I wanted love, and it wasn’t your duty to give it back to me. I can’t be angry with you for not loving me.
I still remember, though, that day freshman year. I had just come from the vending machine to get some Peanut M&Ms and a bottle of Dasani water. I needed to talk to Mrs. Douglass about what I missed in class the day before since I was on a field trip. As I rounded the corner to take the steps back to the old building, I ran right into you, dropping my water bottle. You picked it up for me, handed it back to me. And I had no idea that this moment was the start of a wonderful friendship.
It was wonderful while it lasted, before anger and aberrations. And to this day, it still seems awkward. I watch Living Single and remember watching it together and talking about it over IM. I see things that remind me of you; I stumble over IM conversations between us that I saved on my mom’s computer. I see your twitter page pop up in my suggested friends, or I see you comment on a mutual friend’s picture—I see all this and I can only feel regret and remorse at how things imploded between us, and I can only think about how things would have been had we stayed friends, just friends.
At times, I miss you. I miss your friendship; I miss how we vibed on music. I miss the conversations we had. I miss…you.
Sometimes, I get the urge to friend you on Facebook or send a follow request on Twitter or ask someone where you are or how you’re doing. I don’t because I don’t want to acknowledge that maybe the way I handled things with you was wrong, that I regret cutting you out of my life completely. I want to leave it up to you to reconnect when it was me who formally disconnected from you. And though at times I get the desire to reconnect, I don’t think I will simply because I’m honestly too much of a punk to do it. I can’t stand flatfootedly and do it after all that I’ve done.
At the heart of it all, I’ve said all of this to say that I forgive you; I hold no grudges. You have taught me so much about life, love, and myself, whether you know it or not. Most of all, I do not regret loving you. I’d never take back the intense emotions I felt for you. It produced great writing, but most of all it’s nice to care wholeheartedly about someone else. I know the person I’ll give it to will not be you, but I know I’m capable of it. I’ve grown as a woman, as a person because of what has and has not happened between us. I wouldn’t take it back. I don’t regret you. I honestly don’t regret you.
I sincerely hope that you, too, can one day forgive me for the dumb shit I’ve done. I hope that you are well, that you are prospering. I hope you find love, success, and happiness. That peace that you never seemed to have when we were teenagers, I hope you own it, that you wear it proudly, that you hold on to it. I wish that everything you’ve never had but always wanted is finally in your grasp. I wish you well; I wish you the best; I wish you a fruitful future and life.
Sincerely,
Kimberly
No comments:
Post a Comment