Saw an old email from you today, and it sent my composure straight to hell. I've never felt so guilty. There you were, just miles away, and I sat here at the computer and typed you some stupid email about school and all the trivial aspects of my boring life.
You were slipping away from me as I typed. I wasted precious moments, seconds, minutes, to tell you things you probably didn't care to hear. That time should have been spent telling you all the things that matter, I think.
Like how much I loved you. We loved you. Well, we still do, I suppose. They do, at least. I'm not so sure if I can.
Or maybe I should have said how much it hurt to see you slowly drifting away. Or possibly how it would destroy us all when you never bothered to say goodbye.
Life isn't supposed to wound us like this, is it? We're not supposed to feel this kind of pain. Transitions are meant to be rough yet tolerable; this was anything but that. Rough? Certainly. Tolerable? Ha.
I miss you. I miss you so much sometimes that I wonder if I care more for you now than I did before. I don't look at photos anymore, because I don't want to see your face. I've memorized where there are pictures of you in the house and I force myself not to look in that direction when I walk by.
I want to break my invincible character, to scream and cry and beg, to plead with you to make this right. To fix this. Please, help me heal them, the ones you hurt. Help me sew us back together. Please. Please.
You never said goodbye. You never said you loved me back. If it takes a hundred years, I'll wait to hear you say it.
And if you never do... Well, I hope it weighs heavy on your conscience.
15 years ago
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