title brainstorm:
unexchanged words \\ in lieu of sending another letter \\ enough small talk over whatsapp \\ what id been meaning to say \\ unfinished/unsent letter # 3 of 5 \\ it's 2:40am in pasadena
To a best friend lost. Not the only, but possibly the first.
20 October 2021
- - - -.
I loved being the person closest to you. Who could crack your stoic face into a smile. Who knew beyond- just a little beyond- your almost superhuman exterior.
I am so. so. sorry I left you out to dry. I was broken, and young, and stupid, and needy. And you didn't need me. I felt you pushing away even before it happened, and I was upset because I didn't know why or how or if I hurt you, but I didn't want to be like anyone else to you. Shut out.
I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry for pushing your boundaries. I'm sorry you couldn't confide in me, and I'm sorry for making it that way. I could've opened up more to you, but honestly I didn't open up to anybody; and you kind of scared me, too. Your care for me, or at least its external manifestations, appeared too fickle to withstand the test of whatever uncomfortable defects I might have had. I still have.
How was I to you? What construct of me do you hold in your mind's eye? Was I to you what you were to me? Was I less? Was I more? I cannot know myself from anyone's eyes, but much less yours.
Who are you now? How has your life been? Who has treated you and in what ways? Who have you come to know? Are you finally restful? I wish always for all of your dreams to come true. When we were younger I would joke about having been friends with a future Nobel Prize winner. But in all honesty it was so good to have known you, Nobel in your future or not.
Sometimes I wonder how much of you has evolved into a construct in my mind, and why I miss your friendship so dearly. I do not believe I have made you something you weren't, but perhaps I have made myself into something between us that I wasn't.
There are so many things I would like to say to you, and to have you say to me.