152.)
I never wanted to kiss you, but since the moment we met, I loved you. Since before then. I had heard so much about you, and when we finally did meet, we just clicked. Not like I had just met my soulmate, but more like I had just met a friend I would remember for all of time. I remember how I used to know everything about you - what that asshole did to you, why it just about ruined your life, and the names you liked to be called when you were drunk. I also knew just how often you got drunk, and how severe your alcoholism was, and while it always made me a little uncomfortable to know that you were drinking yourself into an early grave, it only got worse as time went by.
It started to mess with your mind. It happened so gradually that I hardly noticed it until you were screaming in all of our faces, telling us we were shams. Poor excuses for friends. Terrible people. That if we wanted to help you, we should just shut up about your habits and let you continue them in peace. But we didn’t want to lose our friend. We were so scared. I was so scared, I didn’t want to lose the one person who had truly come to understand me for what I did and who I was and accepted me and helped me to rise above the rest. The only person in that sad group of people who knew why I was sometimes so bitter, and why I abused my powers at times, and saw it as a blessing, not a curse.
But I knew it was over when you started talking bad about him. You are both equally my friends, and believe it or not, you were both once friends with each other. I don’t know when that went wrong, or when he became a backstabbing power-hungry monster. But the way you spoke of him that day was the last straw for me, and I would no longer allow myself to be brought down by your destructive behavior. It wasn’t until that conversation that I realized the eggshells had always been beneath my feet. That anything I could say could set you off screaming and yelling about how I didn’t know anything and how I was an idiot (even though just two minutes earlier, you would be telling me I was the only one with my head screwed on tight - I had a good one on my shoulders) and Lord knows how many times I so much as breathed wrong and it upset you beyond comprehension. We stopped talking that day.
I still think about you, though. Do you still have my number? Would I be contacted if you were to pass away; would I ever find out, or would I be left wondering for the rest of my life? Am I the only one who cut off ties with you in an attempt to better myself - a move that only left me miserable and with a sinking suspicion that you felt I had abandoned you? Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, I hope you are okay. I hope that you are getting better, and if you are getting worse, I hope it’s the storm before the calm. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder if you’re doing well, or if you’re even still alive. I worry about you constantly, but you never listened to me when I tried to tell that to your face. I just want you to be happy. I hope you’re on your way. Even if you find your happiness without me, I sincerely hope you find it.
