sunflowers | a collection

sunflowers | a collection

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you left | letter two

December 30th/31st (late at night until early morning)

 

Dearest,

You left hours ago and were then unresponsive. It is still your birthday, or was when you left. You weren’t feeling well – anxious. You did not want to talk with me. I wasn’t feeling well either. I wanted to talk, I really needed to, but I’m alone instead which is why I’m writing. It’s as close as I can get. I don’t know what it is that is making you anxious. Whatever it is, I hope it passes. This has always been one of the hardest aspects of our relationship for me (still is, potentially, since we’re still friends. Or trying to be). You have always been very uncommunicative. I love you so much. I always will. But sometimes I don’t think you realize how much it really hurts me. That isn’t something easy for me to say. You hate hurting me and try so hard not to sometimes you wind up hurting me in the process. So by me telling you that, or anything like it, I worry you’ll shut me out even more.

Our relationship, our friendship, is confusing. That is how it feels to me right now. I have never been close with anyone as I am with you. Yet often you feel very distant (and not just because of the literal distance between us). I don’t know how to reach you, sometimes it feels as though you don’t want to be close with me at all. That feeling drives me crazy. I have never wanted to be so close to a person as I do with you. That isn’t an easy thing to put into words, I don’t think you can understand how deeply I mean that.

Going back to earlier. You left. I hated how much I needed you. The last thing you said was “you didn’t upset me. it’s okay.” I saw that and I wanted to cry (again). Because that was all you said. You returned only to say that, not so that I wouldn’t be alone. It hurts how much I always need you when you’re not there.

I was free to be unhealthy | letter one

December 30th, 2017

Dearest,

Today is your birthday. I’m sad I cannot spend it with you, but it seemed for the best. I really hope you have a wonderful birthday and many more to come. Hopefully my gift will arrive soon (potentially with this letter).

I used to write letters all the time when I was younger. I had penpals and I wrote to my grandparents and I even wrote you letters, which I obviously never sent. They were all really silly. I wrote things like how much I like your eyes and how I wished we were closer. Writing letters was one of my favorite things to do, even if I never sent them. Anyway, the point is, my therapist wants me to do things that make me happy more often so I’m doing this again. I’m not close with anyone like I am with you, I couldn’t think of anyone I’d want to write besides you. You don’t even have to read them if you don’t want to, you definitely don’t have to write back. But I miss you and i like telling you things. (hopefully you can read my handwriting)

It’s hard for me to focus long enough to say any of what I want to say. I get overwhelmed very easily these days. I randomly start crying when I remember you broke up with me. That happened when I went downtown to refund the tickets, i ended up in the bathroom of a random mall curled over may knees crying onto the floor (it wasn’t the best position for being able to breathe). I did the same before I went to the hospital, only my body was too tired to shake or cringe, so I sat blank with the exception of tears. When I got to the hospital and they took my phone I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a long time. Absence is what I wanted, though. I had no attachment to life at that point and my only want was for stillness and emptiness. Lately everything has only been noise and it is overwhelming. I did want an end to ti, and that is why it felt necessary to be there, and once there, noise is kept away. I did not want to leave for a long time. In a book I read recently about a woman in a psychiatric ward, and there was one part where she said, “and even after ‘stability’ is reached, a return to the outside is never my desire, because here when my body tells me to scream, I scream, and when it tells me to press my body to the floor, I press my body to the floor. I can’t do that out in the world”. I didn’t scream and I didn’t press my body to the floor. But I cried. It was safer to do that there. I paced. I sat in a corner on the floor. I didn’t have to hide anything, I was free to be unhealthy there, which isn’t easy anywhere else.

I leave this abruptly and on a slightly sad note, so for that I apologize. I needed to stop. But I love you very much. Always.