Dear You,
I remember two years ago, when I realized you were in my homeroom and my best friend was your friend. I remember when you would take her stuff and make her chase you for it, I thought you had a crush on her but now I know you didn't, I thought you were weird. I knew people didn't like you, everyone talked about it, you were different and not cool enough.
It was crazy how much I didn't want to talk to you. I guess the reason was that I never had friends before, so I didn't want to loose them because I was talking to someone who probably wasn't going to be worth it. I was very cynical.
I cut myself then, but only my best friend knew. You wouldn't have liked that at all. You would have been worried. I don't know why I cared, I didn't think you were important to me at all.
You annoyed me with the games you'd play, you knew not to take my stuff, but I didn't like my best friend always running after you to get things back. Thinking back I think you might have been trying to show off how fast you can run, which is super fast, but I was unimpressed.
Do you remember when my best friend came in crying? You left us alone that day. Thank you. I liked you a little bit after that, as a person.
Eighth grade was rough. That was the year I almost killed myself and was sent away to go to a mental health hospital. It made me feel like a crazy person.
My best friend cried that day. My sister told her what I did and she cried hard. I felt bad when I found out, mainly because I knew that I was loved, but I was selfish and couldn't love myself, so I decided to take action.
I didn't really want to die. I wanted people to actually see I really needed help. I didn't want everyone to know, though. I don't know who knows, no one said anything but my friend, but I wonder who actually knew. You might have. Maybe.
I was gone that week. You had to have noticed. You might have even asked my friend about me. Maybe. We weren't friends, but you were a good person. You might have been concerned.
When I came back everything went back to normal, though I was growing, becoming more mature and understanding. That's when you began to peak my interest. As a friend of course.
We still never hang out, but I watched you sometimes. I learned your body language better and could tell your mood better. I still wasn't nice, but I wanted to be. That counts. Right?
