The Long Game, Lucas Sinclair

041. a letter i'll never read

        Dear Sunshine,

               I don't know how to start a letter I don't want you to read. If you are reading it, it means we're going to be apart for good after you do. I had to write this letter last, because for the longest time I couldn't figure out what to say to you.

               The first thing is that I'm sorry.

               The second is that you're the best person I know, and that's why I'm so sorry. I was sorry before I died—sorry that I pushed you away even though you were trying your hardest to pull. You didn't do anything. That was all on me, and it only made both of us hurt more, so I really am sorry. I hate myself for the way I've treated you.

               I'm sorry now that I am dead, because I really don't want to leave you. You're my bestest friend out of everyone, no matter how far apart we grow. It's always going to be you. I still think about that time in the bathroom getting ready for the Snow Ball where you told me how much you valued our friendship. It made my day because I'd been thinking the exact same thing for months.

               You mean so much to me, and you mean so much to everyone, and it hurts that you don't see that. Sam, you're the best person I k̶n̶o̶w̶ knew. No one's as kind as you, no one's as selfless as you, no one's as radiant as you, no one's as funny as you, no one's as beautiful as you, no one's as smart as you, no one's as strong as you.

                I̶f̶ When I'm gone, I don't want you to end up like me. I have so many regrets for closing off the way I did, but none of them would amount to the hurt I would feel if I somehow made you the same way. You were made for more. I want more for you: I want you to figure out you have feelings for Lucas. I want you to kiss him, finally, because I've been waiting for you to do so since that first sleepover where you couldn't shut up about him without realizing it. I want you to hug our friends. I want you to love the way that Sam Hughes loves, even though some people don't deserve to receive that treatment, but you give it to them anyway because that's who you are.

                I listened to every single game you commentated—basketball, football, soccer, volleyball. I listened to every game, every time, because I missed you so much. I wanted to feel close to you even when we weren't. I missed your voice and your shitty jokes and your laugh after you told them.

                I miss you. I miss us.

                I miss going to the mall. I miss watching movies with you. I miss freaking out over comics and magazines and video games. I miss having sleepovers and knowing that I can try my best to comfort you through your nightmares. Sometimes, when I wake up from my own, I just want to call you so you can be there for me too. I know you would respond, no matter how late it would be. I know you actually would make me feel better. Being around you always has that effect.

                I wish we could've been best friends for life. Go to college, share a dorm, get older, and force our kids to be as close as we are were. El's kids would be friends with them too... Hey, tell her that I miss her if you get the chance? I also miss our summer together more than anything. You don't know how relieved I was when you told me the same in the car.

                Thank you for taking care of me. I know you don't get that from us a lot. We appreciate you so much, and while we haven't been very good at acknowledging that, I made sure to tell all of them in every letter to do so. To hug you. I don't want you to feel alone. You make everyone feel so seen—so not alone—that I want to finally make things right and do the same for you. I only have a few hours left, but I hope you're by my side throughout the rest of it.

                Thank you for coming up to me that day I was skateboarding during recess.

                Please take care of yourself.

                I'm sorry.

                I'm so sorry.

                        I love you,
                        Your moon.