Letters to Old Friends

For the past couple of months, I’ve been thinking about posting some letters to some e9c685c8595370d40cb51d2cc7043cc4old friends. Why? Because they need to hear my words being said. And if they aren’t hearing it, someone does and maybe we can learn from each other. After all, that is part of the purpose of writing.

These are all real people and every event that happened is true. The only reason why I am saying these stories now is because I don’t have the courage to say it to their faces at the right time in the right place.

Like some of you, maybe I need to gain some confidence.

Dear A,

Hey, you. We’ve been best friends since the 6th grade (or so I thought). Well, kind of. I was a bit of a quiet recluse in middle school and you were a little bit…bigger. That’s okay, because I accepted you for who you were and you accepted me for who I was. Even then, you pushed me to come out of my shell by being the bluntest person I have ever met in my life; you would criticize me openly and tell me directly to my face if what I said was mean.

Thank you so much for that.

And I blamed you for so many things: not getting first chair in band or being better than me at debate. I’m so sorry because you deserved none of that. Honestly, you are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met. You’re smart, you’ve grown to become incredibly beautiful, and you know your boundaries when it comes to relationships. In high school, you may have become a little too obsessive with popularity and boys, and I did find myself having to lie to you just to keep up. I wish I didn’t have to do that. Nobody should have to lie to keep up a relationship. But, that’s what I did.

I wanted to be like you. Beautiful, somewhat popular, smart, attractive. I don’t know how I was because I didn’t walk around with a mirror all the time, but you taught me so many things about just life in general. It sounded a little cocky when it came out, but every word rang with so much truth and I should have been able to withstand my own confidence while still being your best friend.

Dear B,

Let me just tell you something – I’ve never been in love and, with you, I never came close to that. As a matter of fact, I don’t really know why I included you in this post, but maybe it’s because you’re the closest I came to an actual relationship. Sure, I’ve done the hook-ups and have made bad choices, but you may be the one guy who actually cared about me as more than a friend. When I say “care”, I mean we could have actually dated.

Until I blew it up.

“What ifs” and “So what” have been swimming my head for years and…I regret everything. I regret not taking that extra leap to be with you or giving you a chance because I was too blind to even read any signs you were giving me. This may be part of my self-esteem issues where I think that you like someone else, when you’re really just being a nice guy…which is all I’ve really wanted. You put up with me and it hurt me when you stopped talking to me after a while because I wasn’t ladylovinreciprocating. No, it’s not your fault. I need to learn how to make more risks in my life, and maybe one day I will be able to take that risk. I’m not going to call you a lesson learned, because you’re so much more than that. But I would definitely say I could be a lot better of a person with a shit ton more confidence if I had taken that risk.

I’m so sorry.

Dear C,

We both started out with big dreams in high school: to become the biggest film directors and producers out there. But, now, you’re in New York and I’m still stuck down in the South: guess, who’s gotten farther?

Yeah, I complain about you sometimes because you’re kind of hypocritical. You used to judge everyone for being sluts and getting into everyone else’s pants, when you were really the most desperate out of all of them. Don’t worry…I sort of was, too. Maybe not as horny, because I was younger and developmentally I wasn’t caught up. But, I understood and you really taught me how to not judge, even though you didn’t say so specifically.

Everything you said in high school seemed like bullshit as you were talking about making it to the big leagues when I thought you never would; you had no experience or idea of what you were about to get yourself into. However, neither did I. I thought I would make it farther than anyone else, but where was my ground for saying those words? I had two years of “experience” and I had potential, but nothing to support that potential. Dreams are only dreams if you just let them sit there.

But you’re doing amazing. You may be just starting out, but you’re at least starting, unlike me. New York is tough, but you’re there and you’re working to accomplish your dreams. I can’t say that I hope you succeed, because even if I do say that, I don’t know if the odds are in your favor, or anyone else’s for that matter. But I’m proud, even if I won’t admit it to your face.

Dear D,

Good sir, you were the epitome of popularity and cool, in general: the all-American boy who was involved in both sports and academics and found a way to not be mocked for it, but rather praised. You were always nice to me and you seemed to understand where I was coming from without bullying me like all your friends did. I am so appreciative of that.

The reasons why you’re included in this post are 1) you probably won’t read this and 2) I really wish we had a closer relationship. I’m not saying I wanted to be dragged into your drug dealing and crap, but rather that I wish we connected more. I know you went through a lot of shit in high school, but I heard all of this through the grape vine. You would only talk to me about things that you thought that I would understand, but did you ever think you may have misjudged?

Stop holding back. The people who care about you are the ones who are listening, not the ones who are pressuring you to do things to make you popular. I know we don’t even go to the same school anymore, but, damn, if I could reverse time, I would have approached you a lot more often than I did.

Dear E,career-regret

You may be the reason why I am writing this post. Our friendship ended more than four years ago, but I feel like I’m responsible for screwing up your life.

Did I? You used to blame me for everything and I used to think you were stupid for doing that. Because I did end our friendship with no reason or explanation. And you may be looking for the answer why, even though it may be a little late. Whatever, though: you deserve to know.

I’m a bitch. That’s the reason why. My parents thought you were a bad influence on me, even though you were probably the best influence. This is because I have a shitty relationship with my parents so I didn’t exactly tell them everything. So I listened to them when they said to cut you off. I also thought you were wrecking my “popularity” when I was just a self-absorbed idiot who thought she was popular when she really was just the biggest nerd and loser in the school. Just because some popular kids were nice to me didn’t make me popular.

In Statistics class, they taught me that correlation does not equal causation, but I feel like the correlation is so strong that I may have been part of the cause. Only a few months after I stopped talking to you, you dived into the deep end and started dating people you didn’t even like. I knew that wasn’t you. Then, you became this emo girl in high school and rumor had it that you were bullied so much that you were sent to a different high school, which you did do.

And then there were rumors about rehab and suicide. That’s when I knew I did something wrong.

Again, I don’t know. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ignoring you and I’m sorry that you had to suffer because of one little thing I did. From then on, I have never stopped talking to anyone just because my parents told me to or because I thought they were ruining my social status. I know the consequences. I may not have been the sole reason why you fell off the face of the earth, but I was definitely a contributing factor.

And I have never been sorrier about anything in my entire life.

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3 thoughts on “Letters to Old Friends

  1. Pingback: Letters to New Friends | 100 Ways to Write

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