Slap

Dear you,

Umm… so I guess I’m writing this to say I’m sorry. Maybe I over-reacted and maybe I didn’t, but either way what I did was out of line. So I’m sorry for that. Is your face okay? I know it’s mean, but I couldn’t help noticing it really did make a red mark in the shape of my hand, just like in the cartoons. Come on, can’t you laugh a little about that?

You haven’t been deserving the things that you’ve been going through lately. I know it’s hard, and that life can be tough, but when you start talking about ending that hardship, I get scared. You said you had nothing to live for. You were going to leave me! You were going to leave me behind without my best friend, without the person who’ll ruffle my hair and stand in front of me when those idiot girls start to make fun of my clothes. (Baggy shirts are comfortable!)

My hand reached out on its own, I suppose. It was like you were in a nightmare, where everything is so much worse and you’re trying to run with cement blocks on your feet. I just wanted to wake you from that. I wanted you to come back to me so we could hang out together again, and watch all the old shows we used to love as kids, and laugh at the thought of how cool we used to think they were. I want my best friend back. Don’t leave me, please.

Love,

me