The Girl in the Hoodie

Letter to Noah

Dear Noah,

I remember the first time I laid my eyes on you, as cheesy as that sounds. You, Max and Dylan walked through the school doors like it was Mean Boys or some shit. You just stared at me because, well, it's not everyday you see a weird girl standing in the middle of the hallway with her hood covering her face.

Honestly, I thought you were a bloody rock when we first met. You didn't smile, didn't talk, didn't show any damn emotion at all. So a few months later, when you told me you were falling for me, I was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place...get it? Rock and a hard place? I really hope that last part made you laugh because it was supposed be funny.

Remember when we went to the supermarket and you let the trolley go and I crashed into the fizzy drinks? Yeah, I wanted to kill you. Ahh, good times.

Okay, I'm getting way off track.

If you couldn't tell by now -which you probably couldn't- this is a goodbye letter. I have cancer and I'm not going to live past nineteen, so chances are, you're probably not going to see me again. I was fifteen when I first found out I had cancer. My aunt took me to the doctors a couple months before I moved to America. I should've told you the truth in person. I know. I should have. But I'm a pussy. I didn't know how to tell you. You've lost too many people already, you didn't need to add another person to your list, which now that I think about it, wouldn't have made a difference if I told you in person or not. I think I'm just plain stupid.

In other circumstances, I wouldn't be saying goodbye, I would be saying, 'see you later', but let's be real, I'm going to die.

I know you're probably wishing you could punch me in the face right now, and tell me that I'm not going to die, but I know I am.

I'm not a quitter, but sometimes, the game just isn't worth playing anymore.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't gotten so close to you. That way it wouldn't be as hard saying goodbye.

I love you. Not in the way that I love Megan, Max and Dylan. I'm in love with you, Noah King. You were right about me liking you back, and you were right about me hiding something from you. And I regret not telling you any of this to your face.

At some point you have to realise that some people can stay in your heart, but not your life.

I'm going to be honest with you for a second. I feel sick, I feel sad, I feel miserable, I feel depressed. When I think about leaving you and everyone else, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. When I first moved to America, the only friend I had was Megan and I had no problem dying, and I intended on keeping it that way. I did not expect you and your dumbass best friends to force your way into my life and make me care about you clowns. And then I met your mum and your brother. Obviously, my plan of not getting close to anyone didn't work out.

I have this saying;

The less people I care about, the less people I have to lose, the less it hurts.

That's exactly why I didn't want you in my life. It's also why I lied and told you that I didn't like you.

Writing this letter is harder than it should be, but I guess the only time a goodbye is painful is when you know you'll never say hello again.

But hey, not all goodbyes are sad. For example; 'goodbye, school', or 'farewell, shitty day. Don't forget to fucketh thyself on the way out'.

And sometimes goodbye isn't the hardest word—especially when the word you're trying to say is 'hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian'. I am a hundred percent certain that you just attempted to say that word and failed miserably.

Now I'm just making jokes because this is getting really hard for me, but I guess that's what goodbyes are like—like jumping off an edge. The worst part is making the choice to do it. Once you're in the air, there's nothing you can do but let go.

Anyway, I know this letter was messy and all over the place, but to be fair, I wrote it all in an hour while having no idea what to say, so be proud of me.

Just remember that I love you. I love how you get mad at me for walking alone at night. I love how you call me Carter instead of Nevaeh. I love how you can joke around with me without worrying about me getting butt hurt. I love how much you piss me off and make me want to punch you in the face. I love how you wrapped me in three blankets, threw me on the couch and made me hot chocolate without putting the stupid electronic baby named Kamri down. Real daddy *wink wink* material right there. I cringed so hard at that last part and I'm sure you did too.

I'm in love with you, and I always will be.

Ew, that was cheesy.

Oh, and one more thing,

Fuck you, Pebble.

Love, Carter.