Letter to an old friend.


     Hope life is treating you well.
     Last night, I found myself thinking about you, and it hurt. Not as much as it would hurt if it was a month ago, but it did hurt a little. I guess that's how you feel when you have an unfinished business in the back of your head, and it pokes you once in a while, reminding you it exists.
     I don't know what I did wrong, or if I did something wrong, but your silence makes me think I certainly did. Lucky me, I've lost so many people I considered important to be depressed over the fact that you left. People just... tend to walk away, and that's alright with me. I've came to accept that people will come and go, and only a handful (up to today, two) will stay in my life forever. I've never been a person of connecting with everyone. Truth is, when I was younger, I had to do some research on how to react to certain situations because I had no idea what to do. Once in a while, I will meet someone that I can truly connect with, and that person has always ended up walking away from me.
     When I met you, I instantly felt that connection, and I was scared of letting you know of it. Mostly because I did not think I was able to see someone else walk away from my life once  more. I've had a lot going on in the past three years of my life, and although to people (or you) it might seem like it could've been worst, it was pretty bad. I had the help of no one to hold me in my darkest days, and I went through it myself. I was the one who decided to get out of my bed everyday, even when my entire body just wanted to stay in there the entire week. So when the good days came, I was finally happy. I made it through, and I knew the only one I needed to make it on this life was myself.
     As our friendship progressed, I grew scared and scared of the day I won't see you in school, or the day I would leave to pursue my dreams, or the day that you finally would walk down the path of everyone else. I was terrified, but the good times were more than the fear.
     Out of nowhere, our friendship starting growing up into something else. It made me happy, but, ultimately, I wanted you to be happy. I guess you weren't. So you left.
     I asked you one night what went wrong, and you never replied. Thanks for that. Thanks for not having the courage to tell me, to confront me.
     And I thank you because you made me stronger. You might think I should hate you with all my life but truth is, I can't hate anyone. I don't hate you, I will never hate you.
     With time, all I will remember would be the good times: our conversations late at night looking at the ceiling, the day I won at pool, the first day I talked to you, our days at the library, at the hookah bar, and the night I asked you, "so... are we okay?" and you looked at me, and replied, "yeah, why you ask?"


A smile. A hand shake. Or just a look. Sometimes, this is all it takes.

There is this cool guy that comes around once in a while. He has talked to me once in a while, and it's a really cool guy. A little nerdy, somewhat cool, maybe a geek, I don't know, but he always comes, says hello, smiles at me, and walks away. I respect people who do that. I love when people I don't know come to me and start a conversation. You don't see that so often these days.
Sometimes, when people approach me, I tend to give them some unusual backstory. I don't know if it's because I read too many comic books, or if that's what every writer does, but I entertain myself in figuring out the person with what little he or she says.