Dear Richie

July 4 Age: 15

Dear Richie,

It's nearing midnight here where I am. I'm visiting my aunt and uncle, presently, with their two kids, who are both college students.

We just got back from the park, watching all of the colorful explosives decorate the dark sky.

I know, I must be crazy to still be writing these letters for you. We will obviously never be, so why do I still fantasize about it?

I have to admit, though, that since you are far from me, both physically and emotionally, I believe that my feelings are fading. Especially after the dream, I have done a lot of thinking.

Despite how disconnected we are, your younger sisters, Malia and Nadia, still talk to me. They text me sometimes and I believe that the three of us could actually become close friends. I never told them that I liked you; we aren't that close.

But they are a year younger than me, making them a bit harder to relate to.

Speaking of relating, my older brother Lucas is officially leaving for college in September. I know it has nothing to do with you, but I thought I should let you know.

You see, I guess I'm not writing these letters TO you, per say, but FOR me. I know, that must sound selfish, but it's true. These letters are sort of a stress reliever of sorts, knowing that you'll never read any of these ever.

But someone has read them.

I keep all of these letters in a little blue journal, as you've probably noticed, and most people just think I'm either doodling, journaling, or writing stories.

But Melanie had to find out for herself.

I used to keep this journal in my locker, hidden underneath all of my books and such. It fell out of my locker one day near the last day of school and Melanie took it up in her hands immediately, curiosity being her first instinct.

I told her repeatedly to give it back, but with my lack of height and ability to jump, Melanie was able to keep it high above her head.

"What is this, Lee-ah?" She had purposefully mispronounced my name, which she knew was one of my many peeves. "Your diary? What kind of secrets do you keep in here?"

"Nothing- none of your business," I had tried so hard to swipe it from her, but she was too quick.

"Let me just see here," she flipped open a random page and began to read to herself.

I didn't bother trying to grab it with the thought of tearing the pages flashing before my mind.

"Melanie, please stop." I constantly begged.

"Lee, are these letters to Chris?"

I didn't respond.

"Are you that cliché? As if by writing these letters, he'll just instantly fall in love with you?" She laughed. "How pathetic can you be, Meadows?"

I took the book back, glaring at her angrily, "Apparently, very pathetic."

I walked away. I haven't talked to her since. She never tried to apologize. She never tried to catch my attention. She didn't do anything.

And she still hasn't done anything.

I guess I always knew that our friendship was conditional, rational. All of my friendships have.

Take my friend Annie, for example, who I've told you about. She is all nice, happy, and bright with her more popular friends. She never wanted to be my friend.

There's Melanie, who has been trying to change me since the first day we met.

And there is you. No explanation needed.

Maybe I should give up on relationships- all relationships. They never turn out good or... Great...

Maybe I should text your sisters and tell them that I can't do anything with them anymore... That'd be too obvious, huh? I'll just avoid them in all circumstances.

I don't really know how to end this letter...

Have a nice time, I guess.

Love,
Leia Meadows