The Letter
[Note: I was going to write it all out notebook style but then my pea-sized brain realized it would take like months and I'm way too lazy. My doodle of Lee does not do him justice, and neither does the picture of the scary lady at the bottom (I apologize, miss.). I'm not that good at drawing in sharpies but of course your could request a nice pencil drawing from me. :) My writing is awful, so I am posting the text version of this letter as well. If you were wondering, it was my lips that made that swell little lipstick mark, and I had to wear the tackiest shade of red. I really hope you enjoy my story.]
Dear Lee,
I never thought I'd be writing this to you; then again I never would've thought you'd hurt me the way you did.
I still remember the day we met, having awkwardly been forced to interact under our parents supervision, but that play date was worth the embarrassment when I got to claim a friend like you.
As I'm writing this, I am thinking about the time you held my hand on my first day at your school, being a little sixth grader was tough for me and knowing a “big kid” with sparkling blue eyes and a warm hand was great on my self-esteem and middle school popularity. You not only helped me fit in, but you were the one person I could talk to about my depression in 9th grade, my anorexia in 10th and even after you went to college you stayed around to help me battle my addiction to drugs.
After you finished your college education, it became worse for me when I got hooked on meth and you always sacrificed a night of partying to pry me away from my mirror and straw and cuddle with me as I crashed from a hard day of snorting. During my withdrawal periods you slept next to me and your mere presence soothed my broken mind, I dreamt of nothing but you. Every now and then you missed some of my worse days and for me that was pure hell. My brain was in smithereens giving me disastrous nightmares making me wake up with scratches on my body from my own destructive nails that I used to destroy the mental insects clawing inside of me.
You were the only one who could heal me, even if only partially. After beating yourself up for not being there when I needed you (even though you should've been living you own life and not trying to piece together mine.), you used to rub lotion all over the scabs I had given myself and massaged my sore fingernails so tenderly.
How could you love someone like me, Lee? I had given myself over to the dead by then and try as you may, you could never unbreak me, I was permanently damaged, even with the minor band-aids your life brought me.
As we grew older you lived the life you deserved; successful job, great friends (Minus one, we both know who.) and a supportive family. Your life had one drawback: me. Each time you noticed missing money in your drawer and somehow I had bought more meth on the same day, you could've been buying a bouquet of roses for a lady who loved you unconditionally; each scar on my face could've been a cute dimple or freckle on the girl of your dreams, every time I slammed the door in your face could've been another night of amazing sex, but you chose me instead of what you should've had. Why, Lee?
You became a handsome man with a twinkle in your eye and a jubilant grin who danced happily across life giving joy to everyone who you crossed paths with, as I sunk into the role of a monster: terrible temper-tantrums, ugly, gnarled face, stealing love from the rich at heart. My complexion once smooth with a few of your average bumps of teenage hormones here and there became old and withered as though I was put in a time machine. Under my eyes were permanent purple bruises, premature wrinkles from the frown I always wore when not around you, nostrils crusty and sore from snorting and my hair was knotted and fried from the endless sucking on it when I was craving a smoke you wouldn't let me have. Oh, and don't forget the scabs!
Even with my much, much, much less than perfect appearance you used to give me a kiss every night before I slipped into my long terrible nightmares.
You didn't know it, but I could see the pity every time you looked at me with your beautiful blue eyes that sent electrical currents up my spine. Those currents were the only feeling I felt in my body after the meth stole whatever happiness I once had.
The day you told me I needed professional help was a big turning point for us. I screamed at you making the whole house shake in my meth-fueled fury (Sorry if I damaged your hearing, sweetie.) and you stood completely still and silent as I punched you with the little strength in my body. You didn't back away, fight back or try to make me stop, you just took it like the shock absorber you'd always been as I hurled insults and smacks at you. I caused you so much pain that day and you forgave me easily, making love to me for the first time that night. Sex was the only thing better for me than meth and I made you shake me in passion all night long before I got on the airplane the next day to go to a Drug Rehab Facility. Before I took off, you promised me one thing: “I will be there the moment you get back. I swear it on my life.”
I knew how hard it was saying goodbye, the tears in your eyes were the only thing that made me stronger against my lust for my drug. I wanted to get better for you.
At the first seminar I already hated everyone there. Sleeping on the floor, no air conditioning and sucky food were the least of my problems; not having you made me miserable. No one had near as much patience as you and instead of holding me in cozy arms, telling me everything would be okay, they used drugs to help me defeat my addiction (Crazy, right? Drugs vs drugs?).
Three years since the day you had sent me to this terrible place and I could finally go home. I couldn't believe it! I hadn't been outside the facility and around normal people for such a long time and every fiber of my body longed to see you. My legs tapped in anticipation, my palms were sweaty with my nerves and my heart was fluttering in way I didn't think it could after a life chalked with drugs. I called you on the phone and finally heard your golden voice, but it had changed. Where was the smile in your voice, the constant bark of your laughter? This couldn't be my Lee! But it was, you told me you would get me at the airport but your voice was cold and stony and I knew our relationship would never be the same.
I gathered up my bags and walked down the airplane ramp into the warmth of the Chicago sun light I had missed so much and I scanned the crowd looking for a glimpse of you. One hour went by...'He must be late.' Two hours....'Bad traffic.' Three hours...'Lost track of time.' Four hours...'Where the hell is he?' Five hours and twenty minutes later, I summoned a taxi and left the airport in confused tears. What about the promise you had made me? “I will be there the moment you get back. I swear it on my life.”
It took me a few days to call you, I was nervous and afraid to hear your icy voice, but finally I did since you never called me to apologize and I had begun to worry about you.
The phone rang once. Twice. On the third ring I heard the voice of a woman.
“Hello?”
“Oh hi. Is Lee there?” I didn't anticipate someone other than you so it was awkward to add this person into the script I had made for my plans on what to say to you.
“Why yes, he is. Who is this?” She answered suspiciously.
“Just tell him it's the best friend who he forgot to meet at the airport.” I said, growing more angry.
The woman hesitated and finally told me, “Alright.” with a sigh. I waited, pacing back and forth until I finally heard a voice. My heart was racing, I took a deep breath and murmured, “Hello?”.
“Oh sorry, hun. Lee said he doesn't know who you are.” It was the woman again!
“How can he not know me? We've been best friends since we were kids!”. The woman sighed and finally admitted, “Fine, he does know you but he refuses to talk. He told me that he doesn't ever want you to call our house or stop by ever again. I'm sorry I have to be the messenger.” The lady hung up the minute she had finished talking and my room filled with the buzz of dial tone.
I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. The phone slipped off the counter as I fell onto the floor, beginning to shake. I pounded my fists on the wood releasing every emotion I had ever felt free from me. I sobbed and screamed until my energy was completely drained and I had given my mind to sleep. I slept right there on the carpet for three days, not moving or getting up to eat. By the time I arose I had bruises on my hands and my back was so stiff from laying on the hardwood for such a long time. The first thing I did when I woke up was to dig up the old mirror and straw and snort some left over meth.
I hibernated inside my house for months, I sold every thing I owned on Ebay besides the basic necessities and groceries were delivered to me every week. This was the only way I could live now, every time I left my apartment I saw things that would remind me of you and that sent me into panic-mode. The IRS made frequent visits because having no income was not beneficial to my financial situation, but I made by in my drugged haze, dealing meth every now and then. It was late winter by the time I figured out something that seemed so obvious but nothing really clicks with meth on my system; it was the lady that told me the things that broke my heart, not you! Maybe she was lying to me. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth (the ones that were left.) for what was probably the first time in my hiding-in-the-house period. If I thought I looked bad a few years ago now I was pure atrocious. I didn't care about personal hygiene anymore and it showed when I looked at myself. I dressed in the nicest clothes I had left (Ratty sweats and a baggy sweatshirt) and took a late night bus to your house. You had fixed it up nicely since I saw it so many years ago, and it was covered in a blanket of glistening snow and twinkling holiday lights. I knocked lightly on the door and heard thundering footsteps from inside. You opened the door, you face full of holiday cheer, and the joy melted off you face as soon as you saw me.
“Oh. It's you.” you told me with an awkward pause. I saw small children running at your feet and realized that the lady on the phone must be your wife.
“Lee...I haven't seen you in such a long time!” I said excitedly, even if you weren't. Seeing you was amazing; besides a few wrinkles here and there and a little bit of thinning hair you looked exactly as handsome as I remembered. You saw my smile which was full of crooked and missing teeth and cringed.
“Can I come in?” I asked you, already cold from being on the snowy stoop.
You thought it over quickly before saying, “No, I think it's better if we take a walk.” I saw your family from the window, praying over a fine meal of what looked to be glazed ham and sweet potatoes.
“Lee, is it-is it Christmas today?” I asked in shock. You nodded and I couldn't believe I had dug a hole so deep that I hadn't realized today's date.
You began talking, “I know we used to be good friends and I feel bad to say this but...It's over between us. I don't want my kids to see you as an example, I don't want my wife to fret over my sanity being around you and your drugs and I don't want to be around you anymore in general. You robbed me of my youth and you stole things from me; money, happiness and love.” We hadn't even made it one block from you house when the tears began pouring down my face. I didn't blame you for your feeling, since I knew that I hadn't always been a great companion, but I never thought you would tell me like this. It was a Hallmark holiday, after all and you didn't even know how I had changed from rehab before your wife rebroke me on the phone.
“I'm sorry it has to end like this, but you're not right for me. It's not healthy to be around you and I've changed so much. Anyways thanks for stopping by, but please don't ever come again.” You turned to leave me where I had sank onto the ground, my head in my hands trying to hold the tears in. You took at looked at me, sighed, and returned once more.
“One more thing, merry Christmas.” You said slipping me a twenty dollar bill. “Try not to use it on meth!” You called as you sauntered back into your house. I sat there, gasping, trying to grasp all of the things you said. My mind was going haywire and if my heart had broke before, it was nothing compared to how mutilated it was now. In my head I imagined you brandishing a knife and severing my weary heart, gashing and cleaving it, shred to fragment to the tiniest sliver as blood gushed and pooled underneath. I watched through tears as you made your way to where your Christmas dinner was awaiting you. I saw the look you gave your wife, practically oozing with unconcealed love, before kissing her on the cheek and ruffling your small children's hair.
I watched your window, still sitting in the snow, until your lights turned out hours later and you went to sleep. My legs and butt might've lost feeling from the icy ground, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the numbing pain in my heart. I finally caught the 3:30 AM bus back to my apartment and while riding I began to write this letter. I'm at home now, writing, and planning my escape.
Right now I'm deciding whether to use a gun to shoot the heart that's already been in love, broken, shattered and numbed, or to hang myself the way you left me hanging at the airport because you no longer loved me. Perhaps I should use the pills to give myself the sleep I need so badly from being strung on my real love, meth, all night, or should I burn myself to get rid of the frostbite I have from sitting outside your window in the snow - maybe that'll melt my heart too.
The way I do it doesn't matter much, just that I know I'm doing it now. I'm not scared; the meth I bought with your twenty (Sorry.) is urging me on and I'm so broken that death won't be much different then the nightmares I have every night. If there is a heaven, I'm sure I won't make it there (the closest I've gotten to heaven was in your arms the night we made love.).
This is all I have to tell you, I can't live without you, Lee, so I won't live at all.
Goodbye and I still love you, deep within the frozen folds of my heart, even though you crushed it.
XOXO.