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So... I think for recovery I really will need to write letters. Admitting that disgusts me. I feel anger that I should be ashamed of such a thing. And underneath it is a pain that I will remember everything again. It's not that I've enjoyed blocking most of it out, but it's not pleasant to remember just how happy you were compared to now. It's not a pleasant thing to think about why you don't have all those things you once had... or in my case the people that I once had by my side.

I've tried to write letters over and over again. I even tried to write a story and comic about them so that I could get over it. It doesn't work like that. I don't have a static view of them. I don't remember them just as having one hairstyle or one outfit. And the ones that didn't really change their appearance much, still changed to me. Some of their smiles were brighter while others had a change in attitude. We made a change in them. And I think that's something I need to apologize. I don't want to apologize for it yet... but I think that's something I need to come to terms with.

For the longest time I couldn't write those letters because I couldn't think of why I should be forgiven. Why should I be sorry that I was friends with them? I couldn't think of any exceptionally bad thing that I did to them to deserve being shut out. But I just thought of something while listening to a song today. What if I was asking them to change themselves into something they didn't want to be? The only way to get away from something like that to a teenager is to rebel. How can you explain, afterall, that you're becoming something you don't want to be and it's someone else's fault? It's not all my fault but it is largely my fault. I applied the pressure, even if a lot of it was love, to become that person. I depended on them to become that person so that we could all be happy. I gave them the resources to be guilty if they didn't support one another. I am at fault there.

When I tried to think of things that I had done to them, I kept thinking of all the things they would say that I did to them. For instance, I tore them apart from their families or distracted them from school. Worst was that I didn't care about them or used them. That I purposefully manipulated them... but those are untrue. I loved as best I could then. I'm not perfect and they weren't either. It's not shifting the blame to say that I was hurt by their way of expressing love too. Hell, I'm still hurt because I don't want to let go of it. I don't want to close those doors on them. I secretly pray that one day we'll be able to be friends again.

It sounds so pathetic but I wait...
and like waiting for a love that won't bloom,
I lose hope in any other means other than them.
I learn to be "just okay"
and reminisce so that they won't die.
If I talk about it,
it will become even more magical.
If I think about it enough,
it will reach their hearts.
But it never does
and no one has come.
And so, I cling.
I need to let go...