Dear Amber Michelle:
I have started this letter time and time again and it has always ended up the same way: destroyed. Either in the recycle bin or an actual recycle bin, but it would never actually make it further than that. Five years have passed since we met and a lot of things have happened in those years and, while I know exactly what happened, you don't really know how things looked from my point of view. You were always the most open of the two so and I never really shared my feelings, probably the reason why this letter has been ripped apart time and time again. But now, I think it's finally time for you to know my version of the story.
I went to study engineering abroad. I hated the college closer to my house and I needed to prove to myself that I could survive on my own, so I decided to go out for what would prove to be five interesting years. Being a small town kinda guy, I wasn't practicularly afraid of living in the city just cause it was a city. I was afraid of living there cause of the people who live in the city. Let's face it, city folk and country folk rarely get along. My experiences haven't proved me wrong yet and, while I'm a little bit city now, I knew things would go wrong the minute I enrolled in that pre-calculus class.
I felt like I was way in over my head. I have always been a whiz at math, something that was evidenced since achieving a perfect score on my SATs, but the fact that it was college-level pre-calculus was daunting. Anyways, I stayed in the class cause there was a quiet person sitting in the back of that classroom. She appeared to be feeling the same things I felt: confusing mixed with excitement; all of which stemmed from the same reason. We were guppies in the ocean that was college life. The more I stared at my fellow guppy, the more I seemed to be drawn to her.
Her waist-long auburn hair was tied up in a long braid, which she had brought up to rest on her well developed bosom. Green eyes that shone brightly against the pale face, which was adorned with carefully positioned freckles. A warm yet cocky grin that seemed to say "watch out world, here I am!" and a figure reminiscent of a Brazilian goddess: petite upper body with shapely hips and legs that would make any Miss Universe candidate green with envy. That is what I saw in you, even though you always claimed that I exaggerated.
By, what I would like to call fate, we were paired together for a project. It occurred to us later on that the only reason we had been called to work together was because of the last names, but I will always credit fate for that day. We started chatting in the classroom about how to do the project and somehow ended up talking about our lives and we expected from it. I found out that you were actually studying computer engineering, which was a miracle in itself since it is a field mostly populated my men. I had met a hot, future computer engineer with dreams of working for NASA and I was incredibly happy at that point.
Time passed and, after acing that project, we kept on getting together and talking even though we had nothing academically to gain from it. We simply hit it off and it was marvelous. We would always meet in Starbucks and share a bagel with cream cheese or go to McDonalds and eat in your car; sharing everything from chicken nuggets to milkshakes. It may seem silly, but I would always get more food just to make sure you would eat.
You started to confide in me, a total stranger, things you said you had difficulty telling others. How you lived with your grandparents cause your mother didn't exactly care for you. How your father had left your mother and you to be with someone younger. How he would say he always regretted that decision but never did anything to fix it. How your grandfather threatened to kill you time and time again for silly little things. Even though I knew your grandfather wasn't sound of mind, it just made the whole situation scarier for me.
I would confide certain things with you: my dreams of studying music and how I was merely studying engineering for lack of something more interesting, how I often felt I lived in my sister's shadow, how I wanted to prove to the world that I could survive on my own and how it didn't really matter what others thought of me. You would encourage me telling me that I could do whatever I sought out to do and I would do the same for you. It wasn't exactly a shocker when, by November, I realized you were running around in my mind.
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was December 10, 2006; a day before my birthday. I had mustered up the courage to tell you how I felt. I figured, with all that kept happening between us, that you would feel the same way and that I would have a girlfriend as a birthday gift. I remember going to Starbucks, ordering the bagel to share, a caramel macchiato for me and mocha for you. We sat down and I started to tell you everything. After pouring my soul, I remember looking at your face and dying. You were trying to avoid my gaze and that's how I knew things would be horrible from then on.
You told me that you had a boyfriend since October and that you were pretty serious, as serious as long distance could possibly get. I remember you telling me that you knew how I felt and that you wish it hadn't come to this. That's when he had out first actual fight. I got angry and started asking you, through tear filled eyes, why you hadn't told me from the beginning. Your answer was expected: "I didn't want to lose a friend." I stormed out and walk the three miles back to my apartment. I can still hear you calling at me, telling me that you're willing to take me to my apartment so that I didn't have to walk and that you were genuinely sorry but it didn't matter.
I got to the apartment and threw myself on my bed. I was glad we were only four days away from finishing the first semester and that I wouldn't have to see or hear from you due to the Christmas vacations. Come January, I realized it would be harder to get through this since you had enrolled for every class I had enrolled for. I knew that changing sections was something only people did in movies. Something only cowards did. I decided to feign like this had actually not phased me, when in reality I was dying inside.
At around February, you got close to me and apologized for the thousand time. You admitted that what you had done was stupid and that I didn't deserve the crap you through my way. Hearing you talking to me made me realized that I had been stupid too. I missed hearing your voice and feeling your presence and I thought I knew that, if I couldn't have you as a girlfriend, having you as a friend would be good enough. Time would go on to prove me wrong.
The first year came and went with no hassles and no dramas, as did the second and third year. Sure, you had those sporadic romances which broke my heart a little bit, but I always figured you would come to the same realization I had: we were meant to be together. Fate had put us both in that pre-calculus class for a reason. Come the fourth year, I would realize that my image of you wasn't as pristine as I thought.
You had decided to become a little more womanly and adventurous. I had supported your idea thinking you would want to do that with someone whom you had put a great deal of effort in making an unconditional friendship: me. Guess who was wrong one more time? Me.
You had your eyes set on the guy I knew was a total loser. You recently found out when you saw him with two children and unhappily married to the bearer of his offspring, but I always knew. He had been studying engineering for ten years and he wasn't even close to finishing, but that's who you decided to play around with.
I remember being in my apartment cooking some three minute pasta when you called me on my cell phone. I remember asking you what was wrong, since you sounded like you were going to puke. You told me to open the gate so that you could park in the apartment complex and you came into mine, asking for a glass of water. As soon as it reached your hands, you gulped it in one fell swoop and proceeded to tell me that cum was gross. My brain and heart shattered in a million pieces as you told me everything that happened, how you went down on what you classified as the world's smallest dick. I have to admit that I pride in the fact that he has a smaller tool than what I do but I couldn't stop thinking on how much fun it could've been had you been with mine instead of his, regardless of how bad my cum would've probably tasted. If there's something I didn't tell you was that as soon as you left, I threw out the glass.
I chucked it from the fourth floor to the parking and reveled in seeing it shatter into a million pieces.
Time passed and you got a job in the local mortuary. I remember teasing you countless times over your new job asking you if you were you the one in charge of making the corpses pretty. When you told me that the 47 year old man boy in charge of that was in love with you, I teased you even more. If someone could please you it was certainly the man boy with seven teeth located between huge gaps in his mouth. I remember you telling me how much the job sucked but how you couldn't quit it. I asked you why and then came the second thing to really break my heart. (Let's be honest: I was more pissed at you sucking "Tiny Tim" off than actually heartbroken. Knowing I was going to succeed in life over him was enough to help me get over it)
You told me about the boss of the mortuary and how hung he; apparently, was. You told me of how you planned to give him the "gift that can only be given once" to him and that it didn't matter where. A short time passed before you called me telling me that you couldn't even walk straight. I knew exactly what you meant but I was not prepared for the two bombs that followed the initial comments: you told me that you did it right then and there. In the mortuary, inside one of the rooms, with a filled casket inside. Sounds like some weird Clue guess, except instead of who killed him and where we're playing for who stuffed your pie. And then you told me that you didn't care that he was married.
I started to cut contact with you. I realized that you were not exactly the best of people. You had shut me down and didn't even have the decency to let me down gently. As if that wasn't enough, you were letting your hormones get the best of you, to the point where you slept with a married man, not caring over breaking up an eleven year long marriage. Loosing contact with you was working out great, up until when you came back. You realized you made a mistake. You realized that you weren't giving yourself enough credit and how you deserved to be loved by someone who wanted to love you for who you were and parade you and stuff. Not someone who wanted to get off in work, since it was the only place where you wouldn't get caught. That's how I fell for you again.
It felt like you had rekindled a light inside of me with that statement. Looking for someone who loves you for who you are? I thought it was a clear subtle way to say you were willing to give me a chance. Previous experiences had taught me not to voice them out loud, so instead of saying anything straightforward, I nodded and applauded your new found lease on life. Then came October 2009 and the dreaded engineering trip to Washington D.C.
You and I had wanted to go a couple of days before the actual engineering conferences started so we rented a room in a hotel just for the two of us. I lied to my parents telling them it was a whole group that was going. You know I hadn't exactly lied to them, since it WAS a whole group that was going. The thing I forgot to mention was that the group was going to NYC first while you and I decided to go to DC. We arrived at DC and things started to get weird. We held hands everywhere we walked. You would cling to me when you got cold and we even started to kiss occasionally. It felt great and I hope that you felt at least a fraction of what I did.
The first night in the hotel was the best night I've had in what I can remember. You were complaining about some extensions you had bought and put on your hair and asked me to help you in taking them out. I was so afraid of hurting you so it took longer than what it would've taken a hairstylist to do it. When we were done, I realized that you were crying. I asked you why, thinking I had hurt you in removing those things from your head. You started telling me about how tired you were of life and how you were contemplating suicide.
I remember taking you by the hands and looking at those green eyes in which I usually found myself lost and telling you that you are valuable. How you never gave yourself enough credit and that if you needed someone to remind me how important you were, you could always come to me. You grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me passionately. I was starting to get lost in your scent but I regained control. I pulled away from you and told you that I was going to do something no one else had done before. I chose to sleep in your bed and just cuddle; nothing more, nothing else. Feeling the heat of your body and your sobs subside in my chest was nothing short of awesome.
The following day things went on as usual. We arrived at the other hotel where the conference was taking place, checked in and moved on with the days' activities. We moved on with the conferences, which bored us both to death, and after a long day of wasting time, we got time to hang back and chill. We found ourselves in a pub and started drinking ourselves silly. Buzzed, but not quite as drunk as you, I leaned in to kiss you and you pushed back, breaking into a hysterical laughing fit. You started saying how you would never fall for someone like me. I was your safety blanket and you had trouble figuring out how I still didn't get that through my skull.
The next day I flew back home and that was the last day I talked to you. We continued to see each other around campus and we were just strangers that once knew each other. As fate would have it, we were seated next to each other in the graduation ceremony, but I had already given up on fate. Hope is wasted on the hopeless.
What I really want to say is that this letter is being finished and sent now cause it is now that makes sense. I don't know if you remembered when I used to say that the quote that defined my life was a line in Mayday Parade's "Miserable at Best".
"Cause I know I'm good for something I just haven't found it yet."
Well I still believe that the line pretty much defines my life, with the only difference that now I found this song. It's called "Streetlights" by the one and only Joshua Radin:
"So let the wind blow us to wherever it says we are supposed to go."
The wind has blown you to New York and I am genuinely happy that you have found your life out there. Me? Well I think my wind is picking up and the destination looks promising. What I do wish is that, if our paths cross again in the future, I ask for two things:
If you see me and you feel the need to rekindle a friendship: don't. I need to survive by myself. I'm done proving it to my family and now I need to prove it to you.
And
If you see me and you don't feel the need to rekindle a friendship: move on. I have managed to survive without you two years and, with this letter, I hope it all ends. Cause, lately, you're not really running around my mind. You're kinda staggering and it's nice not to have you fucking me mentally anymore, since you didn't exactly fuck me at all.
Sincerely,
-Roan