"hey. i just wanted to say... i know you're worrying about the next 30 days, but you shouldn't. you don't deserve a crappy march.
you don't deserve a single unhappy day in your life. and i know you think it's out of your power, but you really can control how your month is gonna go. all you need is the right attitude, so just keep smiling.
God bless,
(name censored.)
p.s. i still think about you all the time.
p.p.s. i rewrote this message about 7 times and i'm still not satisfied, so forgive me if i send you more. you can ignore them if it becomes too much."
That was it. Out of all people to assure me that my most pain-inflicting month wouldn't inflict so much pain this year, I wasn't expecting this person. In fact, this person was the only one who seemed to remember. I woke up on the morning of March 1st already anticipating the month of April. I didn't want to deal with it. Another 31 days. Year 6. Then, I got this message. Out of nowhere. Just seeing this sender's name created feelings of anger, worry, happiness, and confusion. Simultaneously. We were close, once. We spent hours talking to each other, once. We treated each other's families like our own, once. We stuck like siblings...
Once.
I've always told myself, amongst others, that it all ended in such an abrupt and unfair way. The both of us know that neither of us were to blame. At least, that's what I know. As for the people that caused our series of unfortunate events, they're still living with a cloud over their heads. Sure, it may be tiny, but it's there. We're proof. That friendship that was there-- that's proof. The lives that we live today-- it's all proof. However, we choose to never mention it. If at any given point in time, this topic pops up, a wave of discomfort overwhelms the room. Why do we choose to be so ignorant? It sickens me.
No one knows the full story other than me & that person. & we know, that our lives would not have been the same without each other. The circumstances at the time were not in our favor, and unfortunately have stayed that way. Yes, I still wonder about how my life would have been now if such events had not happened. Yes, at one point (actually, several), I have told myself, and everyone else, that I had given up on the situation. This is my version of giving up. It is accepting the outcome. It is knowing the facts and being content and moving on. It is being selfless and hopeful about the next chapter of my life. It is believing that everyone involved is better off and somehow, that's just how everything worked out. It is growing apart with love as opposed to growing apart, period.
Perhaps we'll bump into each other this summer. Perhaps not. That message was the first heartfelt conversation we had in over a year. I replied once. There's that word again: once. Sometimes, that's all it takes. Just one effort, with or without purpose. Who knows what it would trigger?
Here I am, still wondering what to say. I do believe that I should make that attempt to start another conversation. It won't matter to me how far this conversation will get, just as long as they reply. I suppose I should thank them. I suppose I should update them and let them know that things have gone well. I suppose I should suggest a day to have lunch? Is that too much? Maybe. Maybe not.
Je ne sais plus.
I've found myself rewriting and proofreading just as much as they did.
