Saving Grace

Letters

10/28

00:01

It is just past midnight and I have a lot to say, but no way to say it. I guess I've just been thinking about everything I want to say to people. So, for the sake of writing it down and getting it out, I'm going to post it here. And this isn't going to be nice stuff. This is going to be the kind of stuff that makes you realize that I'm not a good person. As if you thought I was to begin with.

Well, here goes.

Dear Rochelle,

I love you. I still love you even though you hate me and I can't stop loving you. I wish I could. You aren't worthy of my love. But you're my obsession and I can't stop thinking about you.

I wish I could apologize every day for what I put you through. But we don't talk anymore and I guess you're better off without me. And eventually, I'll be better off without you. Eventually I won't think about you every single day. Eventually the ache in my chest will go away.

Whether it's because I'll be dead or because I'll finally be over you, I'm not sure. But I do know that one day you won't matter. And I'm excited for that day to come.

But I suppose I should thank you. Because you got me to fall in love with words again. That one text that you sent me that Friday night set into motion a chain of events that I never could've dreamed of. And for that, I'll be forever thankful.

So I guess you will always matter. Because you made me realize I need words like others need oxygen.

Dear Ethan,

I loved you. I gave you a part of myself. And you took it without giving me anything in return other than the words "psycho bitch."

I thought that we were friend soulmates. I didn't get bored of you. You were always so interesting because I thought we were made to be friends. But I guess I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things, but being wrong about you cut me up into pieces like you'll never imagine.

But, like with other people, I suppose I should thank you. Because you made me realize that I don't need people who leave. I don't need you anymore. Not like I used to. And I'm so damn thankful.

I used to think that I knew you. And I'm sure you thought you knew me too. But the truth is, we never really know anyone. We only know the masks they show us. And I showed you one that, for a while, I thought was my real face. Did you think the mask you showed me was your real face? Or did you know?

I don't think I'll ever get an answer. And that's okay. I've learned that I no longer need answers or people to validate me. And because of that, I no longer need you.

Dear Dave,

You're a fucking asshole with mommy issues. I may have daddy issues, but at least I know how to think and work on my own without my mom...

You claim to be holier than thou, but in reality you aren't shit. And you never will be. You will never matter to anyone. Sorry, darling, but you're not the hero you want to be. And you won't ever be.

I also want you to know that I never loved you. You were nothing to me. You were just a rebound. A mistake. And that's all you'll ever be; a mistake. Too harsh? Deal with it.

I hope this hurts you. I hope you understand how insignificant you are, you arrogant asshole.

Oh. And just so you know, you smell bad, kiss horribly, and are so ugly. My grandma calls you "fugly" and she's right. You are. Biggest mistake of my life...

Dear Dany,

Like with Ethan, I thought we were made to be friends. But the truth is, we weren't. We weren't made to be anything more than acquaintances. I thought because we had similar scars that it meant we were the same. But I was wrong.

We aren't the same because you don't know who you are yet. But I know who I am and I'm finally starting to accept it. But you? You're nothing more than a bitch with a fucked up brain.

And that's something seeing as I might just have the most fucked up brain around...

But I suppose I should thank you for showing me that having similar scars doesn't mean you're the same. I guess I was so desperate for approval that I sought it out from someone who can't approve of anyone but herself.

I'm sorry for hurting you if I did. I really am. But I guess we're even because you hurt me too. All I wanted was your approval because you had the ability to make people feel like they mattered.

But, like with Ethan, I realized that I don't need someone's approval to matter.

Dear Connor,

I'm sorry for stealing your first kiss. It was selfish of me. But I just wanted to know that I wouldn't lose you. But the truth is that it's a bit late for that. Because the only thing we have in common was that class in seventh grade and the fact that we're both really smart.

I hope that you don't hate me. But it's okay if you do. Sometimes, I think I deserve it. I don't deserve to have you as a friend.

I wonder how you'll react if I kill myself in March. Will you cry? I've never seen you cry before. Will you scream? Will you actually display emotion? Or will you deny it?

I hope that if I die, I don't hurt you too much. I promise that my death had nothing to do with you. Just in case you're worried.

Dear James,

I'm so sorry that I'm not a better sister. I'm sorry that I don't know more about you and that I yell at you so often. I don't mean to. But when we were growing up, you were more like my charge than my brother. I guess old habits die hard.

I love you. I love you a lot. And it's because of you that I don't know if I can kill myself. I don't want to leave you alone with our mother and our grandparents. I don't know if you could survive it alone.

I'm mostly writing this because I'm scared that if I die, you won't know how much I love you. But I love you so much. More than I love almost anything else. And I hope you know that. I need you to know that.

Dear Leo,

I don't know you that well yet. But I want you to know that you are so brave. I don't know how you deal with the constant bullying and the hate. If it makes you feel better, I kicked this guy in the balls for insulting you.

I wish I could express how much I want to get to know you. You seem like such an amazing person and I hope that within these next couple of months that I get to be your friend.

But at the same time, I hope I don't. Because what if life still sucks? What will happen to you if we become friends and I kill myself? Could you handle that?

Maybe you're stronger than I'm giving you credit for. Maybe you'd be fine. But that's a lot of maybes...