Um. . . . Hey. How's life? I'm doing well, I guess. Life is life I guess. You know, college is a pain, so is getting out of bed in the morning. . . It is life and it's treating me well. I hope it’s good for you too.
Wait. No I don't. I hope you're miserable. Really truly honestly, I do. . . Okay, not really. I'm just mad. Not mad mad, hurt mad. The kind of mad where you cry because you're mad because you feel sad. Does that even make sense? No. No it doesn't. I'll tell you why, because I'm CRAZY!! I get it. I mean really, who would want to care about someone who is so clearly broken inside?
I always wanted you to see the Me that is so put together, the one that can smile and laugh and have a fun time and not worry about everything. But I can't. I've got too much crap to carry around. Who wants that? I don't want it, and I'm stuck with myself, so why would you?
You're such a goof; you're always having fun, laughing and messing around. And I'm the dark cloud to rain on your parade. And I don't mean to either! It just happens. There were so many days that I forced myself to smile and laugh because I knew that's what you wanted, what you needed; when inside I was drowning.
Yeah, I get it. It's hard to be with someone like me, someone who is never sure how to act or say or feel. That's why I never wanted to tell you about Aspergers... Because I was afraid you'd never understand and think I was weird. Okay, yes I am weird and I say strange things. But the emotions I feel inside are just as valid and just as real regardless of whether I know what they mean or not.
The point is, when I was with you, I was happy. Inside, I was happy, I felt like I belonged in this world for once, instead of always feeling the outsider. I broke so many of my own personal rules for you: I managed to eat gummy bears without organizing them by color, I had a water fight with you and they're not my favorite things in the world, We took my dogs on a walk together - something I never let anyone do, I tried to be less sarcastic than I've ever been in my life, and most of all, I actually began to think that I was human.
Yes, I'm the girl who does everything backwards. That's who I am. I'm not someone who can pretend they're something they're not. I am who I am, despite all of my flaws. I take chances because they're the only way I can know for sure what will happen, and even then it’s only a 50% chance I do. I do everything backwards because that's the way things make sense in my brain.
It was supposed to be so different. With you, I wasn't scared of everything anymore. With you, I could sleep without the fear of waking up from nightmares I could only half-remember and the memories of an only half-forgotten face that still scares me. I wasn't afraid of walking down the street at dusk without the paralyzing fear that someone's going to jump out at me. I wasn’t afraid of hiding the scars that so many others don’t understand. . . I wasn’t afraid of being vulnerable.
.....
But what happened? I can't even explain it to myself. One day, you're a part of the world I understand, and the next, you're gone. Gone. With only the tiny glimmer of a chance you might come back. Gone with vague promises and two sided words. Saying it wasn't me, but you. Honestly? I know how it happened, I just don't know WHY.
And the saddest part? I miss you. Probably more than you could ever imagine. A song will come on the radio and it'll remind me of the nights we spend sitting on my driveway just talking till 3 in the morning. I'll be on Facebook, and a picture will pop up from when we were inseparable and my heart will twist into painful little knots I can't untie easily.
I promised I’d never cry in front of you, and to give myself credit, I only did once. But how many times did I fall asleep, telling myself not to cry because crying gets you nowhere. I can’t tell you how many times I went over to my best friend’s house on Sunday morning, just to talk over a mug of hot chocolate because once again, you were ignoring me.
The truth is, the pure unadulterated truth is, that I loved you. And I don’t know if you truly loved me, or if you just wanted to be with someone, but I still loved you. I’m a cynic, I always will be, but you showed me that maybe there is love in the world. For a few short moments, I actually believed in love again. But how would you know? There were so many things I wanted to tell you, but just couldn’t. I could only tell you of the wounds that had already healed into scars. And even with that, it ripped a great deal more wide open.
Could you pass me the lemon juice and salt please? I think it’ll feel much better if I just rub those in the gaping wound. Or better yet, hairspray, that would work wonders. Oh and while you’re at it, let’s just rip off a bunch of scabs too. It’ll be a jolly good time.
But above all, I miss you, and I don’t know how to deal with it. When I get a text, I hope it’s you, even though I already know in my heart it’s not. You were the one person I talked openly about everything with, and now I have no one to sit on my driveway at 2 am with. Sometimes it’s all I can do to get out of bed in the morning. I’m not saying that because I’m pathetic, I’m saying that because the emotions I feel are amplified many times over. You feel sad, I feel depressed. If you’re irritated, I’m furious. And if you’re hurt, I’m devastated. I know that sounds pathetic but it’s the truth. I can’t help it.
When you text me casually, like nothing ever happened between us, I die inside. I’m stuck between the options of crying or telling you to never talk to me again. After a while, you might be able to forget, but I can’t. I don’t have that option. Now I’m haunted by memories of you too. Just as I start to think my life is becoming normal again, you open that knife wound and dig a little deeper.
I said I’d always be your friend. Yes, I can do that even though I don’t think it’ll work.
So let’s just be friends. Sure.
~E
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