Letter

Dear Emily,
I can't do it. I know you want to forgive and forget, but sadly my heart isn't capable of this. I wish it was. But I leave in less than a month, and over the last two I can't help but sit here wondering every time you send me a text if it's going to last.

Yes, you were my best friend. And yes, I miss you. But you hurt me. Badly. Telling me to "Stay the fuck out of your life" was pretty much all I needed to close that Emily part of my heart up and pretend you don't exist. I don't go to Denny's or Ihop and I try to act like you don't exist.

The night the apartment burned down all I wanted was to call you to tell me It would be ok, but I deleted your number. For good reason. We had a great thing, and yea, I was critical of you. But only because I knew you could do so much more with your life.

Where I thought I was smart, you were a genius. Where I was insecure, you were outstanding. We were ying and yang and yet the same. And it worked. Laughter, tears, Rum and of course the dancy game. I know you still read and this is why I put this here.

I will never speak German and not think of you. I will never eat hashbrowns and not think of you. I will never contemplate tuna, chocolate and garlic and not wonder wtf is wrong with you. And when it comes to best friends and laughter, I hope that when I am 90 something and John is asking me to bump uglies I think of you and laugh.

because I'll be honest, I miss you. I wish it was worth returning the phone calls and being friends again. But we both know regardless of the love, the friendship and laughter it will never be the same. And yeah, maybe I throw hissy fits, and maybe I over react sometimes... but it doesn't change what you said. and it doesn't change how I feel or how you hurt me.

I want the best for you, and sadly I'm certain I am not that. I miss you, I love you, and I hope you get everything out of life you wish for, because you deserve it.
Love,
Me.