June 30, 2012
I’ve been thinking about you an awful lot lately. Ever since I decided to tell someone about the dream I had, the one about the hospital, the one where I woke up and realized it was you. I wrote it, on paper, and gave it to my teacher for marks in a class. It was the first 100% i’d gotten. Her comments were about how realistic it was for a dream, and how my writing blew her away, because I have the ability to make things sound so heart breaking. It was real to me, and that’s what made it so good.
Ever since I typed it all up, ever since then, I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to die a lot more too. I want to be with you. But since suicide is considered a sin, it won’t end with us together anyway, so I guess I have to wait. I’m ashamed to admit that I used your name as punishment. I used it to hurt myself. I carved it into my skin. I hate that I did, you don’t deserve that. What kind of best friend am I? A shitty kind.
I didn’t think I could without you. But I did, and everyone is so proud of me. But i’m not proud of myself. I want to cry every five minutes. I can’t stand to look at myself in a mirror. I hate that i’ve become this sad pathetic girl, who can’t be alone for five minutes before she starts to want to hurt herself. I hate that I put that kind of pressure on people. I hate that I forgive others so easily, but I can’t forgive you for leaving me. I need you, and you’re not here. I don’t trust people anymore either. But I think that’s because I don’t trust myself.
I should have talked to you seven months ago. I should have, I had a feeling in my stomach, I should have asked you to come up, I should have asked you to call, I should have just done anything. If I had, who knows. You might not have died. I do blame myself, because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to just hear your voice that day, and I didn’t bug you, I didn’t take the five minutes to try. I failed as your best friend. I wasn’t there when you needed me.
I had a dream the other night, that I heard you were hurt and I went to the hospital and she was alive, and when I got there you woke up, and everything was okay. I hurt a lot of people when I woke up. I was mad at myself. Because maybe that could have happened.
Fuck I miss you so much.
I just want to be okay again.
I love you.
I can’t believe i’ve gone seven months without you.
But, I’ll never get you back.