But I Digress...
I hope you'll forgive this departure from my typically overblown prose and 'deep' meditations on the failings of my life, Sam, but I read this tonight and there's a few things I just want to say.
For the record - I'm writing the script of my callousness and it's coming along exquisitely well.
i love you with a passion, Molly Coombs, and i always will.
ive probably already told you that. but i think i need to repeat it. its a good thing to say every now and again.
you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you just genuinely smile for the hell of it.
This was written almost two years ago, and it breaks my heart a little more every time I read these words of undying devotion. I think back - remember all the fun we had junior year, driving in my car, sneaking you out of the house at 2 a.m. to smoke forbidden cigarettes and talk about our days. We'd go to Dunkin' in the summer and laugh 'til dawn and promise that nothing would ever change.
You laid bare your soul and I bandaged your wounds. I answered endless questions, offered reams of advice to solve the myriad of problems that swallowed up those carefree days, always giving, never taking - I somehow knew that the slightest emotional strain would snap that tenuous thread that kept us closer than family.
You wouldn't have missed the irony of that - family was always the launching point, what we so naively believed to be the source of all our misery. We added nails to our coffin while bemoaning the fact that we were young, smart, rich and aimless. It may seem self-indulgent through more mature eyes, but I won't lie and say I don't miss the time before my real life began.
I listened as only a best friend could to seemingly unending parade of hapless girls - too stupid, too ugly, too wasteful to be worth a moment of your precious time. I let jealousy eat my alive as I pushed them, one by one, away from you, as only a best friend can. Cruelly, insidiously - I pushed all of the buttons that brought you rushing back to me for comfort, consolation and reaffirmation. You thought you needed my support - I needed your attention, your friendship, your affection. You were my safety net.
It was harder to write those words than I ever thought it would be, and I am still protected by the anonymity of the Internet and the ceaseless rushing of time that has caused you to forget all about this little corner of my secrets. You've grown up and grown away from me, on to college with your loving girlfriend, new friends and new experiences. I've been watching it happen for years and years with the many people I love, but it cuts most cruelly with you. I made you, I protected you, I loved you and you let me go. So there it is - if you ever get nostalgic for the way things used to be, it's all here for you to see. This may be the first time in our 7 year friendship that I have been truly honest with you.
Well if that isn't progress, I don't know what it.
For the record - I'm writing the script of my callousness and it's coming along exquisitely well.
i love you with a passion, Molly Coombs, and i always will.
ive probably already told you that. but i think i need to repeat it. its a good thing to say every now and again.
you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you just genuinely smile for the hell of it.
This was written almost two years ago, and it breaks my heart a little more every time I read these words of undying devotion. I think back - remember all the fun we had junior year, driving in my car, sneaking you out of the house at 2 a.m. to smoke forbidden cigarettes and talk about our days. We'd go to Dunkin' in the summer and laugh 'til dawn and promise that nothing would ever change.
You laid bare your soul and I bandaged your wounds. I answered endless questions, offered reams of advice to solve the myriad of problems that swallowed up those carefree days, always giving, never taking - I somehow knew that the slightest emotional strain would snap that tenuous thread that kept us closer than family.
You wouldn't have missed the irony of that - family was always the launching point, what we so naively believed to be the source of all our misery. We added nails to our coffin while bemoaning the fact that we were young, smart, rich and aimless. It may seem self-indulgent through more mature eyes, but I won't lie and say I don't miss the time before my real life began.
I listened as only a best friend could to seemingly unending parade of hapless girls - too stupid, too ugly, too wasteful to be worth a moment of your precious time. I let jealousy eat my alive as I pushed them, one by one, away from you, as only a best friend can. Cruelly, insidiously - I pushed all of the buttons that brought you rushing back to me for comfort, consolation and reaffirmation. You thought you needed my support - I needed your attention, your friendship, your affection. You were my safety net.
It was harder to write those words than I ever thought it would be, and I am still protected by the anonymity of the Internet and the ceaseless rushing of time that has caused you to forget all about this little corner of my secrets. You've grown up and grown away from me, on to college with your loving girlfriend, new friends and new experiences. I've been watching it happen for years and years with the many people I love, but it cuts most cruelly with you. I made you, I protected you, I loved you and you let me go. So there it is - if you ever get nostalgic for the way things used to be, it's all here for you to see. This may be the first time in our 7 year friendship that I have been truly honest with you.
Well if that isn't progress, I don't know what it.