I miss you. I miss our endless laughter and your holding my hand and telling me goodnight and good morning. It hurts and I hate it. I’m too stubborn to text you first but I really do miss you.
The thing is, you hurt me. You once told me that as a part of your recovery, you had to make a list of people you’d hurt and said you didn’t want my name to be on that list. I think it was inevitable. This is so hard to write. There’s so many things I wish I could tell you. I want to tell you about ballet and how my family’s coming to visit and how I’m worried about International Standard because of the lack of boys and because I don’t like the ones who are there. I want to tell you about teaching Riley dance and how she loves it and asked to learn blues and how she and Adam went on a date and about how today is my 6th day in a row without panic attack meds. I want to tell you about my necklace and the real reason I make paper cranes. I want to complain to you about teaching at swing and tell you how I’ve decided to apply to be a 180 teacher in the fall. I want you to be my friend and be a part of my life and I want to know about yours.
It’s stupid that we’ve so abruptly stopped talking after such an instant friendship. But at the same time it’s completely understandable. You don’t seem to want to be in my life. You don’t push your presence despite how I’ve told you I want to remain your friend and because I have such a hard time fathoming why anyone wants to be in my life or be my friend, I won’t push my way into yours.
You told me about your problem and honestly, it scares me. It makes my heart go numb and my head can’t think straight and I start going Sociology major on you and everyone else because that’s the only way I can understand it. I don’t understand though. I’m still kind of mad because you didn’t tell me the real reason sooner. You let me believe that things still might work out between us and that there was still a chance you might come back next semester. I hoped you would. I hoped there was a reason to believe in us still.
I’m trying to forgive you, but I don’t think things will ever be the same again. I miss you and I wish you the best.
Take care, Panda Bear.