Dear Diary: It's A Secret

Dear Diary: Chapter 21

I held the first letter that my sister had wrote to me about a year ago in my hands, while all the other letters were scattered in front of me on my bed, and Damon's letter placed on my bedside table- to be read last. Why would I want to read it last, someone might ask? Because, for some reason I thought it was better to read something from someone who I had last communicated with five years ago, than to read a letter from someone who was dead.

I let out a shaky breath, as best as I could with my trembling hands I ripped open the first envelope. My heart beats rapidly increased,  as the letter opened in front of me, a long letter written messily in blue ink, with hearts all over it. Always expect my sister to draw hearts, on the paper she was writing on.

However, this time there was something different about her hearts. It looked as though she had paused over and over again, while drawing her hearts, as if not sure if she should make them.

I focused my attention back to the writing, mustering all the courage I could gather to read what was in front of me.

Dear Serena:

I don't know what to say, where to start. This is not easy.

You got that right. It sure as hell isn't easy for me to stay still and read a whole damn long page letter, and many more after that.

I want you to know that this isn't the first time I tried getting in contact with you. It's been four years since I last saw you, when I miss you I look at your old pictures and try reliving all the memories as best as possible, but sometimes that isn't enough.

I didn't have your phone number or I would've called you. Do you even have a phone?

No.

Aunt Lucinda told me about how they have weekly shopping days at your school. That would've been nice if you loved shopping, yet I know how much you hate to go outside.

You haven't come home in the past three years. You only came once in your first year, and I remember how you looked that time till now. That pained look on your face, the way you stayed away from everyone like they would harm you, it's hard to forget the way you acted. You would sit in your room the whole day, and scribble in your notebook all throughout the day, and lay wide awake at night, even when it looked like you were sleeping. You thought no one noticed? Trust me, I did. I heard your cries of pain every night you cried when everyone had fallen asleep. I remember the words you would scribble on pieces of paper- the same papers Simon would use to make paper airplanes out of. Did you know he did that?

I remember too. Every single detail of the two weeks I spent there after everything had changed. My heart clenched with pain, memories of the time flooding my mind. She knew it all, but not once did she ever mention it to me or anyone else. Of course I knew Simon did that. I would give him those papers, hoping that someone would read one of them and know how much pain I was in.

You must be wondering why I didn't say anything to you or anyone, I assume? It was because I was at fault. I played a part in your pain. I was suppose to be the one to protect you, but I didn't. My sorry can't change anything, yet here I am trying to say I'm sorry. I left, when I should've comforted you.

But I needed that comfort too, Serena. I needed someone to comfort me, and I was getting that at that time. I'm sorry that I was selfish, and only thought about myself. I'm sorry, that I'm sorry,  and that nothing could go back to the way it was.

I miss you, Serena. I miss you. I love you so much. You were one of the only people that really mattered to me. I didn't want you to leave too. So before you could, I left. I wasn't brave enough to be able to tolerate the loss of losing another dear person to my heart. I'm sorry for that, I truly am.