When I read the first of Essin' Em's 30 Days Of Letters (Done before her by other bloggers whom I keep intending to read in length), I was intrigued. And now I'm giving it a go myself.
In high school the girl this letter is to was one of my closest friends. These days, she's much different, much changed, and I loathe her. But back then...I miss that her.
I find it rather strange that a lot of those I write these to I highly dislike. The ‘Her’ in this story shares her first initial with one of my former partners addressed in that letter, so I opted for her preferred gender pronoun instead, not wanting to create confusion.
I don’t know if I miss you or who you used to be. You were one of the first people I met in grade ten, and my first crush at Vic. We shared three classes, found ourselves sitting next to each other in English, and were friends before we knew it. Despite your vast amount of surface innocence, my raunchy, inappropriate personality and humour didn’t drive you away at all. We were both bookworm anime dorks, and for some reason, you found me funny.
And I found you funny. And stunning, but I knew perfectly well that you didn’t swing that way at that time. Personally, I highly doubt you ever did, but after I dropped out, we faded out of touch. A friendship I once thought was fantastic turned into me saying happy birthday to you on yours on facebook and you not even acknowledging mine, only two days after yours. I didn’t know whether we’d simply grown apart or if I’d done something wrong somehow without even realizing it.
Then you hurt Her after being with Her for a long time. And by that point, Her was much closer to me than you, having been in the same forums, going to the same things, interested in the same stuff for years. I was livid. I would have never expected that crap of you. And all that I’d built you up to me in my idolizing, crushing mind crashed down into a shambles.
I simply don’t care about you now. I defriended you everywhere, not wanting to see your face and be dually reminded of both how you hurt someone dear to me and how you’d drawn away from me. By now, you are but a blip in my past.
But sometimes I look back and I miss chatting with you while running laps, laughing in math, and harassing one of your friends with lipstick. I miss being able to talk to you about nearly anything, I miss your hugs. But unlike my former lovers who I wrote to, I cannot forgive you. You didn’t hurt me like they did, nor I you - you hurt someone I care about and have, to the best of my knowledge, shown no remorse over it.
I may miss you, but it is not the you that exists today - it is the honest, sincere, caring girl I once knew.