The Way It Was Before

his letter

I know that someday you will try to find me. But by the time you find this letter, I will have gone wandering, with you in my thoughts, to somewhere far away, somewhere so different. I won't tell you where I'm headed because you might come after me. It's better if you don't know.

Forgive me for writing you a letter instead of talking to you. I expect that when you finally read this, you'll be angry and hurt, but I have become adept at never expressing what I truly feel that I find it simpler to write it.

There is so much I want to say that I might sound like a rambling madman in this letter, but I hope you can understand what I'm about to say.

Pushing myself away from you was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made, but it's all because I want to protect you. Everything about you was a striking contrast to everything about me.

I guess now is the time I have to tell you one thing that I wasn't able to say truthfully. You told me I shouldn't blame myself for my mother's death, but no, I was responsible. What started as a simple question from her rapidly turned into an intense argument. I crossed the line—from where I was in control of my emotions to where my emotions were in control of me. Everything I had kept in me for 18 years was brought up, and I blamed her. I blamed her and father for what had gone wrong in my life. Words that should not be said were hurled around. Doors were slammed. I walked out of the house before she could finish.

I was horrible, cruel, and disrespectful. I had so much anger in me that it was too late for me to realize how destructive my words were. And it was only much later that I came to know and accept that I had made my own choices and that I was responsible for the things that had happened to me.

I went back to the house, prepared to make an apology, only to see her lying motionless on the floor. I didn't know that her heart had already been weak, and the stress of the argument caused it to fail forever. I could have prevented her death if I had been wiser and a little more patient. All hell broke loose, and father became so violent that he almost tried to kill me. I couldn't sleep for nights because my nightmares became violent too.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. I was being selfish. A coward. All I could think about those days was to escape. Had I stayed in town, I might have brought you, or you might have willingly ventured to go further into my world. It's dark. It's not a place for you.

I had given up once, Autumn. By the time senior year began, I was slowly cutting ties with the people around me. I quit my part-time job at the pub. Sold a few things. Crossed off the days on the calendar. Wondered if it was worth living. There were voices in my head telling me to quit, to end everything, and sometimes I would succumb to those voices, only to be stopped just in time by other voices that were telling me not to do it. They were constantly at war, and they wouldn't leave me in peace.

Then one day, I saw you sitting under that tree where I used to spend my time clearing my mind. I think you didn't notice me watching since you were engrossed in a book. You, of all people, stole my spot again and again, and I found it funny. Your existence in that place made me think that maybe it was a sign I didn't ask for. A sign that I should stick around for a while to see what would happen.

I'm glad I stuck around.

I think you're clever at choosing words and knowing what to say because you made me pick up what I had dropped, changed my ways, and made me feel happy, comfortable, light, and most of all, human. Those nights and days I spent with you were my sources of hope. You are my lighthouse.

And it was like a drug. Got me addicted to the way it made me feel. It made me desire to hang out with you more, even though I was completely aware of the fact that a close friend desired you as much. When I realized I was a mess who would poison you with this side of me, I tried to push you away, but it had the opposite effect. I pulled you closer. I have to be the one to pull away, and now I'm wandering around with severed threads that once bound us.

I wish that those fun days with you and our friends could go on forever, but time doesn't work that way. And given our circumstances, it can't happen. I have a lot of bigger things to do still, Autumn, and one of them is solving these inner issues myself. Alone.

Remember when I showed you the green flash? I hope you do because that's what we are. We are only a moment. A moment that doesn't happen every day and every night. We are only transient guests in each other's life. Maybe you were just a phase in my life. And maybe, I was in yours, too. But even if that's what we are and might always be, I'm happy I met you, Autumn. Please remember that. The length of this letter will never be a measurement of how enormous an impact you've had on my life in such a small amount of time.

I learned a long time ago that you couldn't save people from themselves. It's their job to do that. It's my job to figure it out on my own. That's what I'm trying to do. So don't let worry drain you. Save yourself the struggle and carry on. Live. Grow. Explore. Get to know people. Look after yourself. There are so many things waiting for you to go through and to be turned into valuable memories. Don't spend your days waiting and looking for me. I'm not worth it.

The uncertainty of the future dangles over us, and I will never know where your heart will take you, but I'm certain there will be a time for us to see each other again. And by that time, I hope both of us have healed.

I'm sorry for the heartache. I'm sorry for the silence. I'm sorry for the cowardice. I'm sorry for many things. I hope you can forgive me. I'm still working on forgiving myself.

I'm sorry and thank you.

Thank you for existing, and thank you for loving me.

Even if we never talk again, I will always wish you well.

- M. S.