Letters to Phil. (Phan)

Letter Twenty Four.

September 1, 2015

Dear Phil,

Hi, Phil.

How are you? I really hope you're doing better.

I'm doing better.

Not really, but I'm getting there! :) Chris is gone right now, meaning I'm home alone. I like the solitude.

I've been editing a video all day!

I was actually in your old room all day editing and I wasn't phased once by it! Can you believe that?

I haven't had any dreams or anything lately, either. Meaning, I'm done with all the dreams about us, finally!

Phil, your fiancé is probably one of the best people ever. She came over about a day ago and she just sat there while I cried.

I was crying over you, obviously, but she just let me. No one let's me cry anymore. They get mad at me or just snappy. Which, I understand, because its almost been a year, but sometimes I can't help it.

They don't know how fucked up I actually am. That's the thing. They think I was perfectly fine when you came into my life, but you know I wasn't. I was a wreck like I am now.

You know that. You saved me from getting to where I was trying to kill myself. And yet, you're the reason I'm to that point.

I'm not blaming, god, I'm not. I promise. This was completely my fault and I'm sorry.

But I just think it's ironic how you always told me to make sure I didn't rely on people. That I could get by on my own. But I didn't listen, because I relied on you. I relied on you for everything, it seemed.

And here I am now.

Sitting alone in the middle of the hallway in an empty house, fighting the urge to do add on to the white and pink lines covered my wrists.

Writing my ex best friend a letter because I'm a stupid fuck up and relied on him for everything.

How ironic, wouldn't you say?

Love,
Dan.