Dear... ,
I have written this letter over and over in my head over the course of the last couple of years. I don’t know where to start or why to start. I’m not quite sure why I am writing this letter and at the same time I have the deepest understanding. This weekend is a moment we spoke of often with anticipation of all the great memories we would have shared and the future we would have, keeping in touch and sharing all of life’s great joys with each other.
In high school, I never had a great group of friends. I had a couple friends that I was close to and hung out with but there was never a cohesive group and I looked forward to changing that when I got to college. I was so blessed to room with you and become so close. It was a relief – a comforting feeling that God actually was looking out for me. I was so blessed by our wonderful inside jokes, our great heart to hearts, and all the fun experiences we had. I still speak of them fondly when I remember them.
Despite everything that has happened between the two of us and the fact we haven’t spoken in a very long time, I recall all of those memories often. Many nights I lay in bed thinking of everything I’ve done wrong, what I could have done differently, what I could have said that would have made everything go back to normal that December day in Paul’s office. I have become incredibly angry with God for my inability to maintain any sort of relationship with you.
I once had someone mention to me that they never realized we knew each other. I was so caught off guard. How could they not know? How could they be friends with me and not know that I had been such great friends with you? Not be aware of all the fun times we had had and inside jokes we threw back and forth? It hit me that I suppose it has probably been equally long since we’ve been good friends as we were good friends, yet your friendship has impacted me more than I ever could have imagined.
I came back to Hope incredibly depressed, lonely, and abandoned. Not only had I lost my dad, I had lost my best friend too. I have struggled to move on. It is still a daily struggle to get out of bed, go to class and field placement, pass the people I used to feel so connected to and yet feel so distant. I know this is my fault. Paul told me over and over again that hurting people hurt other people and I realize I have done that not only with you, but many of our mutual friends too. It is forever painful to see you moving on and happy with the same group of friends we had freshman and sophomore year, knowing I no longer play a role in it.
I have run the whole gamut of emotions, as I am sure you may have too. I acknowledge that I have hurt you and at the same time I question if I really did because I’m so damn insecure in myself I think you may have never felt our friendship was nearly as important as I valued it. I question myself daily, I am angry with myself often, and I frequently find myself depressed and reflective. I struggle and am unable to open myself up and be close with many. I get close to making good friends and I push them away for fear of messing up in the same way I did with you. I suppose I keep trying to find someone to fill your place when we both know that is impossible. The friendship you provided me the first two years of college is immeasurable.
People always say “everything happens for a reason” or “live and learn” but I have a hard time swallowing these phrases. I’m still searching for the reason or the lessons to learn. Maybe I’ve discovered the lessons and they’ve been a hard pill to swallow. I’m not sure. I want to believe everyone when they say “everything happens for a reason” because it gives me hope that there is a bigger plan that I’m not aware of; that all the struggles will bring great joy eventually. I’m waiting for the “eventually” – for the other shoe to drop. Actually, I’m really waiting to wake up from the nightmare and have everything return to the way it was. Ahhh… if only.
I miss you. I miss our friendship. I miss our jokes. I miss our memories. I miss the fun times we had. I miss the heart to hearts we had. I miss our ability to be painfully honest, cry on the futon, and still remain friends afterwards. I miss your laugh. I miss the random things you used to do in your sleep. I miss you. I’m just having an incredibly difficult time handling the reality that we will never have what we had. And right as I wrote the last sentence, Bev made her profile picture a picture of you, Bev, and Brooke the night we went around campus with chalk. A picture from my album, without me in it, to commemorate the four years at Hope. That was a shot through the heart as I broke down on my futon. Things never will go back to that and to be honest, sometimes I can’t handle it.
I want to be at graduation to support you and congratulate you on the many wonderful accomplishments you have had during your time here at Hope. Selfishly, I will not be. I am obviously still suffering and I do not wish the suffering upon you. Graduation is a wonderful time for celebration! Your friendship has been immeasurable to me and I know it has been to the many other people around you at graduation.
I wish you all the happiness in the world. I know you have the energy and passion to do so many great things in the world. Your contagious smile and hunger for justice are great gifts I know you will take full advantage of in the many years ahead. May your years here at Hope only catapult you into great things above and beyond what these few city blocks have to offer.
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