Dear Phil - Phanfic

Dear Phil

Dear Phil,

Beauty, a term generally defined as a cocktail of qualities that are aesthetically pleasing. I can sense it all around me, the beauty of this world. It is boundless. I can feel it in the air that passes by me, in the sun that shines above me and the laughter by which my heart is captivated. Yes, the laughter and smiles of one, my best friend, you Philly. My light, I have lost plenty when I found you. For I am but a helpless worker among the sea of robots in this miserable brainwashed society. I was blind. I saw no beauty as I walked and walked seemingly for miles until I sat upon the uncomfortable texture of my office chair. Your mother whom I thank for your presence had hated me the moment she realised I was you friend. And still, your presence lighted nothing in her heart but contempt and more distance.

But you? You gave me purpose when all I thought about was hanging a rope symmetrically at the centre of my bedroom. Your steps, your laughing fits and giggles; you truly were a diamond in the rough of life. But I have failed you, I know that. I was always a failure, and having you did not alter that quality in me. I am not beautiful, my love. Yes I admit it, you are my love, get over it. I'm the very definition of a sore lose. I couldn't even live thirty years without falling into deep spirals of depts that evidently are eating you alive. I couldn't fathom the concept of addiction until you put me in a rehab facility, or in other words, my new home. I still see beauty though, as I sit here writing this letter to you. I may not win the healthiest friend award, but, I was getting there. Thanks to you.

By this point you must be wondering what overtook me to write you a letter instead of just calling you on the phone, I presume? Well, Philly, you know me very well that you don't need me to answer. But, phones are too distant and yet closer than what my comfort allows. Letters can be intimate, meaningful and safe from my social awkwardness. I thought before I go away, I must at least tell you a story of old, back when I didn't think I needed you to be happy.

The story follow a teenage boy, who'd fallen in love with one of the most beautiful ladies in the crowd of normies that swarmed around him in the school building. The girl was a mute, who found it hard to walk two steps without someone mocking her for her disability. The student body of that school was the very meaning of the word 'ugly' and he was convinced she deserved better treatment. So one day, he gathered up the courage to stand up for her and protect her against the girls that for some mysterious reason found her skirt funny.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he said, and they laughed more.

"What, doesn't she have a tongue of her own?" One girl stated mockingly, and the rest cracked like it was the best thing they'd ever heard.

By that point, the boy had lost more of his faith in humanity and said to them, "you girls are disgusting! How can you mock someone for having a disability? How can you laugh at their misfortune?"

"How?" One raised her eyebrows. "Well, we laugh at bad singers and actors that can't act. Why not laugh at people who're bad at talking?"

The boy looked at her in silence, turned around, and acted like they didn't exist till the end of their time.

Now Philly, you must wonder now, why did I tell you this fascinating story? What's the big deal? You'd be glad to know, my point was that humanity as a group is a failed species. When people are on their own, they form their own opinions. But when they're part of a group, they literally fail to see reason beyond what the dominant figure does, even if it was something as in-profound as the legitimacy of mocking those less fortunate. They enjoy being on top, and they achieve it by stepping on others. Because you know what they say, if someone's on top then that means someone else is at the bottom. That's how life works.

And that is me, the bottom. The gutter of society. My depression was a demon I couldn't escape, and you suffered to see me wither through the years of my life. You were the only light that counted, so you mustn't blame yourself for what comes next. I am a coward, I know. And you do not deserve me as a friend nor a love. I am also extremely selfish so I'm determined to carry this on even if I realise you'll cry because of it. But it must be done, you must move on. And you cannot with me on your back. I am sorry, I am sorry for not being strong enough. I'm weak in the mind, tired in the limbs, dead in the heart and mad in the head. You might take my letter as pure bullshit, but that's all I am and that's all I ever will be.

My existence was never meant to be.

I leave you this letter as I hang my symmetrical rope at last. And maybe, just maybe, I'll meet my muted beauty in another life. And when you move on, I'll introduce you and she'll be there at our heavenly wedding. Or maybe not, you cannot possibly love me before and after reading this letter. Meet the world, sleep on the covers of earth and the blanket of the sky. So long, my love.

I will love you always.

You friend forevermore,

Dan.