Another letter unsent

Look, I know that you’re a guy and I’m a girl, and it’s obvious to me that that’s an issue for you. But gender roles aside, I still truly care about you. I care about you a lot more than that guy whom, much to my dismay, you call your best friend despite the fact that he nearly bullies you sometimes. I think he’s a nice guy overall, but I can’t stand the fact that you think he’s the only person who wants to be around you. Because he’s not!

I know you don’t have many friends, and that makes me sad. Look, when I met you five years ago, you were this obnoxious kid that made jokes all the time and got told off for them. And I was the one who figured that being told off so often must not have been very fun, which is why I didn’t. I humored those stupid jokes. And we teased each other as friends for the rest of the year, but then at random times you would be genuinely nice to me, just out of the blue. And I really did consider you one of my main friends.

Then we were on different campuses for a year. But by the time you were a freshman and I was a sophomore, you weren’t obnoxious anymore. You were just sad and sulky and so obviously lonely, and yet your face lit up whenever you saw me. And I cared about you, and we had lots of good moments that year, but I didn’t give you much thought. Regardless, it bugged me that everyone else only complained how obnoxious you were. You had changed, even by that time. Why didn’t people see that then? Why don’t they see it now, when you’ve come even farther and are basically the most genuine, gentle-souled, kind-hearted person in existence whenever you talk to me? I don’t know why, but it makes me really sad.

As for your sophomore year and my junior year, things were obviously quieter then. I avoided you for about two months after you blocked me on Facebook towards the end of the summer (which also was saddening to me; I promise, if you ever do unblock me, I will never comment on those “comment if you think I’m a good friend” status messages ever again. I truly didn’t mean to embarrass you), but we had one or two nice conversations, and I remember how happy you were when I wished you a happy birthday. But I also remembered you telling someone once that the aforementioned guy was pretty much your best friend. And again, that made me annoyed, especially now that I’ve spent so much time with both of you this year and have seen just how awful he really is to you.

Don’t get me wrong, I do want to be your friend. Very much. But I’m also graduating in four months, so that’s not going to help you that much. Just please, promise me that I won’t be the only person to sign your yearbook this year. I don’t like seeing you so sad all the time; you should smile more often. I just wish you were happier, that’s all.

You don’t know how much you mean too me. You’re my only actual real friend that has stuck with me throughout these past three years. I miss our sleepovers, when we would watch Bridesmaids and just kill ourselves laughing, go on omegle and look like total tool bags, or our midnight walk around towns, and we’d just talk about all of our problems.I miss those days. I sometimes wish i didn’t leave you in this trashy town.. i wish i stayed with you until you left.. i wish we didn’t drift apart, you’re the only person that truly matters to me in this life. You’re my bestfriend, my other half. It hurts me every day knowing we won’t ever be the same. It hurts every time we talk, trying too push ourselves into becoming friends again.. the sad thing is, we both know we’ll never be the same cause we’ve both moved on. Although we aren’t as close as we were before, i never want to lose you, you’re always going to be my number one bestfriend. Forever. Love you Sully <3

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked up and I’m sorry I trusted someone I knew I couldn’t. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I was scared. I’m sorry I was stupid. I’m sorry I never said sorry. I’m sorry I never even told you how I felt. I’m sorry we can’t go back. I know it’s been a while but I still think of you a lot and I still love you a little bit even though we never speak. Today when we were both walking on the block to school from different directions I saw you slow down when you saw me walking towards you and it just made me remember knowing you. Talking to you until 2 am on school nights and staying up all night talking to you on the weekends, the month I sent 6,500 texts, the months I spent with butterflies in my stomach every time I thought of you. The day you asked me out I didn’t even know what was going on. I completely shut down and didn’t know what to do. I thought I was too fat for you then…I thought I was fat and I was a size 00. I didn’t think I was good enough. Everyone in the grade was prettier. V was prettier. Who could even love a girl like me, I thought. I’ll never be good enough, I thought. Every day after that in class you sat on the other side of the room. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I thought you hated me. But I missed you like hell. I hoped one day you’d talk to me, but of course I was too scared to. When I signed up for the same language camp you told our class about there was a reason. When A told me you asked where I was because you knew I was supposed to go, I killed myself over it. I should have gone, but by the time July came around I was in full-fledged eating disorder mania. I couldn’t go. I was scared. I wasn’t good enough. Then sophomore year we were in the same math class. And every day I hoped you’d see that I still missed you. I saw the spark in the occasional shared eye contact. It sounds so silly but I promise it was there. And that time we worked together one day solving problems in class. No one knew how to do it but I thought I did and tried to explain it to you guys. You kept trying to show me how you thought we could do it and wrote in my notebook. We laughed together and it was almost like it used to be. But that lasted 30 minutes and went away forever. I don’t want to leave this school without closure. That’s what I need and all I want. I need to talk to you but I don’t know how. You’re different now; you’re not the same guy I knew back then. But then again, I’m not the same girl. And maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be anything more. I don’t know. I just want to know if there’s still something left.  Even friendship would do. There’s still a place in my heart for you if you want it.  I don’t think it’s ever going to be filled. 

Hello. I hope you are well. I have something to tell you, and it doesn’t matter to me if you read this or not, but I hope you do. You were right, and I was wrong. But also, I was right and you were wrong.

When we had our talk on September 11, 2009, you said a lot of things I didn’t want to hear, but eventually, I took them all in and tried to accept them. You recommended that I seek therapy—that it had helped you and Mary. Eventually, I did. My therapist and I talked a lot about my childhood, my parents, religion, God, Catholicism, and you and Mary and the whole ordeal.

So you were right about that. I needed help to get over a few things. I still feel a bit foolish thinking you and Mary could have been helpful to me.

You were right about Maryanne, too. She does in fact not have a “light” that shines within her. After the fallout, we discovered that she is actually one of the most selfish, conniving people I’ve ever known. She tried several Machiavellian-style maneuvers on B.. Book club has become a chore to attend; B. calls it “the Maryanne and Lulu show.” So you and Mary were right about that too, and Mary was right to end that relationship. B. had to maintain some kind of relationship with her because they work together, but recently Maryanne changed departments, and she basically forgot that B. exists. They rarely speak. We’ve come to the conclusion that she’ll be anyone’s friend as long as she needs something from them. As soon as she discovered that B. wasn’t really into fawning over her or indulging in her dramas, their friendship cooled. So yes, you were right about that, too.

But here’s what you were wrong about: me. I know that you did not understand what I was trying to do. I know that I fumbled my message over and over again, trying to make it right. I needed your help and I wanted it. I was desperate for anyone to listen to me. I felt so betrayed, and so foolish for making such a big leap of faith. It was all about God and family and love; I wanted those things so much. It still aches inside of me.

In 2010, I began meeting with priests. We talked some, I cried some. I met with a woman from the RCIA. I learned a lot about sacraments and obligation, and some things about the inner workings of the church. It was very fascinating. There were times I wished that we were still friends, just so I could ask you and Mary questions.

I attended a Sunday Mass. I was underwhelmed.

Right now there is something in me that wants to believe, but does not. I have read a book or two about Christianity since we spoke, and I’ve talked with a lot of people online. I’ve considered the Episcopal Church. But something keeps me away.

I’m sorry, Paul. Sorry I didn’t understand Holy Obligations and why that’s a big deal. I’m sorry I opened my heart to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t ask for help until it was too late and I’m sorry you didn’t want to offer it. I’m sorry I loved you and your wife, and I’m sorry I told you I did. I’m sorry you did not love me back. Actually, I’m not sorry for loving you and your wife. If I loved you “what business is it of yours” anyway? I’m sorry you and I and B. and Mary don’t get to be friends, and have cool parenting adventures together.

Sometimes I wish I could call you—that I hadn’t deleted your phone numbers and email addresses. Sometimes I wish we could all still be friends. But then I remember how much you hurt me, and my wife. That’s when I realize that even if I want to be friends, to “have fun” and conversation with you and Mary, it can never be.

Maybe I’ll never be a Christian again. Maybe I’ll never genuflect and praise God quite the same way that you do. Maybe I’ll never take communion like you do. But I know something about human decency. And I have to tell myself that what you did was not only “not nice,” it was also the most un-Christian—the most indecent—thing to do.

So I guess I was wrong about you, too. Goodbye.

Please. Help me. Please do. Please notice that I need it.

I’m not strong enough to ask for it.

I saw your body lying there lifeless just a few hours back. Now everytime I close my eyes I can see your smiling face, your laughter, your handwriting…I knew that even if we’d not spoken throughout the year, I’d get that phone call from you on my birthday. I went through all the emails we’d exchanged and am glad the first weekend I moved back I could attend Rumi’s birthday and meet you. Now that I look back you did look stressed when you came to give the Diwali gift. I wish I hadn’t been so aloof like I’ve always been and been there for you. Your family might say it’s an accident, but the facts lead to otherwise. For a person who was always smiling, most helpful, nicest, loyal…dude no adjectives in this world will fall short for you. That collage you made for me before I left for the US..it’s sitting in the Colaba Port with the rest of my stuff. It’s now going to become the most treasured possession in my shipment now. You’ve left not just an impression on me and our friends but our families too. Mom had to visit your place for Ganpati. She had to put a Diwali gift in your name, the last time I saw you was when you came to drop off your Diwali gift quite a few days after Diwali. I’m replaying those few minutes in my head over and over again. You were so smart and ambitious, and I guess didn’t have the support to make the move, to pursue them. Ambition vs responsibilities. Watching too many detective shows,talking to your servant about the series of events, you shouldn’t have. 

Fuck man. I’m going through those emails, wanting to send more detailed replies. Pick up the phone & talk to you. Meet you now that we were so close by. I’ve lost you and feeling guilty that I couldn’t be there for you. It’s too late now, it’s really hard to find genuine people like you, it’s my loss that I’ve lost out on such an amazing human being.

You emailed me on 7th Oct, 2007 about your parrot passing away and you wrote “pls pray for his soul„, a free soul next birth.. closer to god… pls do pray… thanks..” I don’t know what was going on in your head then if you did take the giant leap, but like Mithu hope to meet you in your next birth’s avatar, hope you are a free soul up there and smiling as always down on us. 

It’s not even been 24 hours since all this happened, only 10 hours since Dinika called and gave me the news, 5 hours since I saw your body being taken away in the ambulance …those 3 hours I sat in front of your body has put my mind into a whirl. My body feels disconnected..and I realize a lot of things. I’m thankful to mom for supporting me through thick & thin, for rising above the phoenix. I’m extremely thankful for being back home, for the experiences I’ve gained through all the opportunities I’ve been fortunate to be exposed to, through all my travels and everything else thats been in a part of my life. Rishi, I wish you’d gotten a piece of all of this. I also realize I’m not the best person to be friends with, I’m aloof and in my own world, I have that Cancerian crab shell that I make it harder for people to break into. I promise to be hopefully slightly as loyal and you and change that, be more connected and be there for people if they need me or not.  

Take care up there, I’ll look out for the most shiny smiley star in the galaxy cause I know that’s you smiling down on us, at peace and carefree from the rest of the world.

Lots of love,

Amrita.

P.S: I’ll miss my ragging Anish partner in crime!

We were all singing songs of the big downpour. Of the gushing winds. Sometimes of the dying daffodils. It was monsoon and you looked beautiful in your quaint green skirt with a blouse that had vintage written all over it.

Everyone was mourning. The rains had caused enough pain this late October and everyone around had suffered losses.

And yet, I smiled, I rejoiced and I laughed. They mocked me. They called me insensitive. And yet I celebrated. I raised a toast or two to your presence. I celebrated you. Being 2 feet away from me, you were collecting gravels off the road and then indulging in some strange math calculation, humming an unrecognizable tune. Yes, I smiled. at the mere presence of you.

Today, you updated your baby’s picture on your profile. again. she looks just like you. I wonder if you remember me. I wonder if you think about me. About the downpour, the chilly, solemn skies and the day you wore green, the day you made me smile.

Yours truly,

A