pen pal - trixya

chapter 15

September 19th, 2015. Saturday, 04:14 p.m.

From: brightredscare @ gmail.com

To: iqkitty @ gmail.com

Subject: last night :)

Dear Dolly,

I know I have your phone number now and I could easily have sent you a text, but I think this feels more like us.

Anyway, I'm just passing by to say thank you, again, like I did a million times before I hung up this morning. So thank you. This is probably very exaggerated, but it meant a lot more to me than you realize. You mean a lot more to me than you realize.

I slept on her bed. Best sleep I've gotten since she died. I didn't remember how warm her room is, all the time, even with the heat off. My mom woke me up and laid there with me for a while, which finally gave me the chance to talk to her. It was painful, and it was uncomfortable, but it felt necessary. I hate seeing her cry, I always hate to see anyone at all cry, it drives me nuts because I never know how to act, but today... I kinda understood it. I knew where those tears were coming from and I let myself cry in front of her too. I think my dad heard us because he showed up in her room too. He tried very hard not to cry - I guess I know where I got that from - but he ended up crying with us.

It was sad, but it was beautiful too. For a moment it was just us, sitting on her bed, not caring. Loving Brooke, remembering her. It's fucked up that she died, especially the way she did, and I guess we took some time to forgive her as well. I know how it sounds - forgiving her for killing herself? Harsh. I don't think many people would understand what it feels like to have someone you love take their own life, but it's definitely not what I expected. Of course you get sad, you're sad above everything else, but the anger... The anger is definitely there. I don't even think it's anger, it's more like a lack of understanding, a frustration. Why did she do it? How could she do it, how could she leave me? Did she not love me enough to stay? Did she ever doubt that I loved her enough to help her through whatever the fuck drove her to this? Would I have been able to help at all? She didn't leave a note. She didn't have any apparent reason. She left. She chose to leave. How could she ever for a moment think... I don't even know. That we would ever get over this? That we, that I, would be okay without her? It's a selfish way to think, I know, but so was she. I needed her and she chose to leave me behind in this miserable fucking world.

That's where the forgiveness comes in, to make peace with the lack of understanding. Sadness is strong, anger is strong, but forgiveness is stronger. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to forgive and that's why she did what she did. It's difficult, though. Forgiveness is when I look into myself and I realize that despite it all I'm still here, and she's not. Whatever I'm going through is definitely not even half as terrible as what she went through. Forgiveness is when I remember all of the times she made me laugh and how that is worth so much more than the times she made me cry. Forgiveness is moving on, forgiveness is living my life, forgiveness is realizing that our place in the cosmos is so small, and yet it is. Forgiveness is unpleasant and it makes me cry a lot, but it's also what keeps me going. I forgive her, and I forgive myself, and I forgive my parents every single day, over and over again, until I don't have to anymore.

I'm not writing to talk about Brooke, though. I'm writing to talk about you.

You must be sick of me by now, considering all I ever do is tell you sad things and then kiss your ass. Oh, yeah, and also the fact that we were on the phone for over five hours even though I could barely talk. By the way, I loved it when you talked about the stars, nevermind the fact you were telling me they're about to extinguish all forms of life on Earth. It's a beautiful story to be told. Now that I've already started rambling again, I'll lie to you and promise that I won't take too much more of your time.