Seven Letters After You

Letter #2

     I didn't get any sleep. I still cannot come to terms with the fact that you're gone. Every time I look to my side, I expect you to be there smiling back at me. But all that greets me is the cruel air. Please tell me this is all some sick joke.

Day Two

     The morning after you talked to me for the first time I woke up extra early, hoping to get to school quickly for merely a glance of you. To make sure meeting you was not just a fantasy in my head. I found you waiting for me on my front porch. You remembered my name and greeted me, following it up with "I'm accompanying you to school, if you don't mind."

     Of course I didn't mind.

     I remember smiling so much my cheeks hurt. I didn't talk much at first, I stayed listening. You filled me in on 'school gossip' about people I didn't even know about. I didn't care. I just enjoyed listening to your voice and watching your facial expressions more than anything. I wanted you to like talking to me, and I wanted you to keep me company.

     You were the first person I had ever become attached outside of my family. I was attached to you in a matter of days.

     Turns out, we had quite a few classes together. You even moved from your usual group of friends in order to sit next to me. You made me feel special in such a way I cannot describe. You made me feel like I had a purpose. That I wasn't brought into this world for no reason.

     You then slowly started introducing me to your other friends. I hate to admit, but I was very envious of the female ones. They met you before I did.

     Even though I got the impression that a few didn't like the fact that I 'took' you away from them, I didn't care. I just wanted you. Your approval. I didn't need anyone else's. Whenever my mother's death would creep into my mind, I would imagine the first time you tapped on my shoulder and threw your arms into the air when I screamed. It always brought a smile onto my face and distracted me from reality.

     You spent your mornings, lunches, free time in between classes, and after school walking home with me. It must've meant something.

     After about a month, I started to talk more.
     I opened up about my life, and how I was homeschooled for so long. You were genuinely interested, and encouraged me to keep talking.

     The interest I once lost in life came back. My old habits of rambling about things I found excitable or fascinating slowly started to return. However, I avoided the topic of my mother's death. You didn't ask either, which I was thankful for. Two months after we met, on a Friday afternoon, you invited me over to your house.

     Though I wanted to hesitate, my mouth agreed immediately. I didn't bother asking permission from my non-existent father who would stock the fridge up occasionally.

     "My mother will love you!" You exclaimed before I walked through your front door.

   The face on her face said otherwise. Her eyes scanned me worriedly, and she excused you to the kitchen to talk to her. I waited by your fireplace nervously with my head down. I wanted her to like me. I wanted her approval, so I could receive more of yours.

     You came by the fireplace with your mother and introduced us to each other. "Hello, my name is Hnin," she said in a very thick foreign accent. I introduced myself shyly, which seemed to impress her. She liked humble people.

     At first, I didn't understand your parents' situation. You claimed your father was always on business trips. When I found out the truth, I didn't know what to think of your mother being the other woman. I had never come across a real situation like that before. The only places I had come across it was in novels, where it was deemed forbidden by most of the characters. Most of the authors wrote about it in such a disapproving way, but your mother made it seem so romantic.