The Letter

I'm 32. Kate is dead, Chrissy is dead. I'm living alone. I have trust issues, PTSD, and trauma & I'm in therapy, Kate and Chrissy ruined me. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even real like this isn't real. I wrote letters, so many letters, for Kate... I ruined them all and had at least more than 10 crumbled-up papers on my floor. I finally wrote the right one. I went to Kate's grave & read the letter to her. "I don't even know if you can hear this, or if you care but, I loved you. And you ruined everything, and I know blaming you isn't gonna make anything better but, we were only 15, and we didn't know anything. I still don't know why you tried to do it, or why you hated me. But sometimes I wish you would've killed me and gotten away with it, you would've gotten the life you deserve and I would've been at peace. Now I have to live with this, guilt, trauma, anger... I don't have anyone left. I know our friendship wouldn't have lasted, but it was comforting to think about. And now when I think about you I get this giant, hole in my stomach and I can't breathe. You were my everything, and now you're gone. I'm an alcoholic, I'm working two jobs to survive. And that's why I came here, to try and understand why it happened, and that's why I wrote this, because I know now, that it wasn't my fault, it was yours."