This is my final goodbye of sorts to my sixth grade teacher. I DON'T WANT ANY BAD CRITIQUES, I POURED MY HEART ONTO THIS PAPER AND NO ONE SHOULD TRY TO CORRECT THAT. I don't expect most of you to under stand but here goes
Dear Mr. B,
I just got off the phone with Sam. We talked about endings, changes, and how things won’t ever be the same for any of us come Tuesday. I know you deserve it more that any teacher in the world to retire after 30+ years of the same job, but all I can think about is how much I wish you wouldn’t. There are so many things I’ve wanted to tell you. For instance on Friday, when I said “I don’t know what would have happened to me if I wasn’t in your class.” Truth is… I do. I probably would have killed myself. That year was so hard and frustrating; if it wasn’t for you I would have snapped. But with class in your room it wasn’t boring and oppressive like the rest of the school system, it was a constant party. In another class with the same kids, I might not even have the friends I do now.
Josh is leaving. I don’t want him to. He’s my best friend and I can’t take it. Out of all my friend he’s the only one I can really talk to. And even then I keep 85% of every thing inside. It’s not like he won’t be around any more but it wont be the same. And I’ve held this in too. You’re the only one I’ve really talked to about this to. I don’t want every thing to change. And Tyler got arrested. I’m sure you’d heard but still I thought I’d mention it. I miss that kid sometimes. I don’t want to make new friends. Right now I’m a big ball of adolescent rage with no outlet. And I don’t know what to do.
There’s something else I don’t want to tell you, but I can’t stand not telling you. I have tried drinking. There. It took me five minutes to type those four words, and I can see the disappointment in your eyes right now. I tried to make the excuse to myself “Well I wasn’t driving” but it doesn’t make a goddamn difference. I did it to forget, and to make things easier, and all that made me was a coward. If I was half as strong as you, I would have just kept going. But I’m not.
Mr. B I don’t want you to leave because I need you. I need you to yell at me like you did that time in the hall. Over the past two years I forgot all the things you taught us. Not the latus method or how to make an oven, but the things that count, like to be friends with every one, or that sometimes all you need is a kick in the ass. There are things that I want to tell you about Sam and the others, but that’s not my place. They have to open up to you; I can’t do it for them. I know my letter wasn’t four pages long like Sams, but I think I got everything out except one more thing… You’re the most influential person in my life. And I love you.
I’m gonna miss you so much,
Matt
P.S. I tried not to cry like a baby
the whole time I wrote this.
