This is essentially an open letter to someone who has been a very good friend to me, but has recently decided that he does not care to be my friend. His non-confrontational nature makes it nearly impossible for me to say any of this, so I'm writing it down.
I am glad you were in my life. You were a good friend to me when I needed one. You were my best friend. You put up with all of my moods and tantrums and doubts and fears; even the ridiculous one. When I was a depressed 19 year old who thought he was the ugliest person on earth, you convinced me that I wasn't bad-looking at all. When my heart was broken, and it was broken many times over the years I've known you, you were there to comfort me and let me rage. You put together a new computer for my last birthday. When I had nowhere else to go, you allowed me to stay with you. My life is better because I knew you.
You have always been important to me. I've never been good at saying things, so I tried to show you how important you were by doing things. I took you to dinner every week when I couldn't afford it because I was grateful for your friendship. I wrote that Fairy Tale that you never read for your birthday because I wanted to you to know that you were special, and it was the only thing I could give you that showed my appreciation. I talked angry people out of jumping you and beating the crap out of you. I worried about your drinking too much. I told you things that I'd never tell anyone else, ever. It's never been easy for me to open up to people, at least without a safe mask of anonymity. But I tried with you, honest, I tried.
You told someone once that you don't think I've ever cried in front of you. I know that's not true. I remember once I was so hurt by something that I started crying so hard I shook and curled up into a ball. You held me until I stopped crying. I don't forget something like that. I never know what to do with people who have moments like that. You did. I haven't forgotten.
I love you. You're family to me. And like family, you fucking piss me off. I hate when you're fake; and the last time we spoke you were fake with me like I couldn't see right through it. I am jealous of your charisma. I hate the way you flirt with everyone; even people you know have had a profound effect on me and have cause major issues I'm still working on. I hate the way that I always feel in your shadow. I hate the way that anytime I'm interested in someone you'll inevitably charm them. I hate feeling like your mishapen, ugly brother. And I still love you.
I loved the way I could just be silly with you. Like riding with the sunroof down singing loudly along with Tina to Proud Mary. Or the time we argued in the Wherehouse and that ditz thought we were twins. Or the time we spent hours playing Odd World. Or how you went with me on my hunt to find a Quistis Trepe doll. And the first time I got you up on the stage at Popstarz? That was great. I'll miss being the constant in your revolving set of friends. Damn it, I'll miss you.
But you've decided that we're not friends anymore, and you don't want to talk about it. I'm leaving Los Angeles in a few weeks, and we would have had to say goodbye, but I had hoped it wouldn't be so final. You were good, you were kind, you were downright infuriating and now you're gone. I'll miss you. May luck and love light upon you.
Always your friend,