Dear Millie

7

Hi Millie.

I'm back. Rosalind made me read the letters I'm writing to you to her. Well, I guess she didn't make me, but she strongly suggested it. She said that it sounds like I've got "a lot of emotions to spill" that I wasn't telling her about. But I don't. Emotions aren't really there anymore. Everything feels so numb recently. I've said that before, but it's getting more and more true every day. You know when you have earbuds in, so you can hear everything, but it's muffled and you can't pay attention to anything? That's how life feels right now. Maybe there's something that can make it better. I don't know. I don't really care, either.

I haven't read your diary, if you were wondering. It seems disrespectful, plus there's the small part where I might implode because of the pain. And then Mom would come up and say something that's the opposite of helpful, and then Dad would come up and say something even less helpful. And then they would leave because they wouldn't know what to do, and then it would just be me and the only real you. The only space where you put all of your thoughts and feelings, no barrier. Sometimes I wonder how big the barrier between you and me was. I don't think it was big. I don't want it to be big. Maybe when I read your diary (if I read it, and the chance of that is slim), I'll get a better idea of the size.

You know Mr. Thorne, our old French teacher? When he heard that you were gone, he cried. He actually cried. I never thought any of our teachers really cared enough about us to have that much emotion, but I guess I was wrong. Whenever he sees me, he gets really sad and starts to tear up. I think he knows that we were dating. Luckily, I don't see him much.

I don't really have much else to say.

Love you so much it hurts, Millie.