To All The Michaels I Have Ever Known

Letter #15

Let's address this for a moment.

You have the tendency to be a complete ass. This is something I'm not quite sure how to feel about, let alone articulate, but I think that it has to be said somehow. This is how it happened. You got hot over the summer, yes? Well, I was not the only one to come to this conclusion. It was perpetually hard to miss the breadth of your shoulders. The half-smile that is just almost, but not quite, a smirk. You have a pretty great ass too, to be honest, but I would never say that to your face. There's a lot of things I would never say to your face, and that's probably a good thing.

My friend also has a set of eyes and we both came to the conclusion that you were hot at the same time. I don't think that I ever really had gotten over you, but she had never really looked at you that way until this year. Do you see the problem that could arise here? Homecoming was coming up quickly, almost too quickly, and it was strange to think that I wouldn't be going. I think that I'm one of "those kids" that hangs around high school about year or two too long. I would have loved to go. I missed going. So because I couldn't go, I was going to force my friend to go. And because I couldn't go with you, I was going to encourage her to go with. This seemed like a fine and dandy idea until I realized that I couldn't just give up all claims to you. I can't promise that we weren't placing bets and claims on you, but I can tell you that I couldn't give you up. After all, I had liked you first, right? And that was even before you got hot. No offense.

But I'm not the type to believe that if I couldn't have you, no one could. I knew that she would have a great time if she took you to homecoming, it was a Sadie Hawkins, after all, and so I encouraged her to go. But it hurt my soul. My god, it hurt my soul. But I didn't want to say anything. Her having fun was much more important than me laying claims on someone I would never have. So it was all fine. All fine. For about twenty-four hours.

You're brilliant. Simply brilliant. Note the sarcasm. You said "yes" in an awkward, roundabout way. But still. You said yes. But then you decided to become a complete idiot. I was so angry at you. I thought you were smarter than this. Smart enough to not send stupid, demeaning messages to someone and then apologize because they were supposed to go to someone else. I thought that you were better than that. I yelled at you. I full-named you (golly gee), and then I didn't know how else to feel. Angry? Moderately and guiltily relieved? I wasn't entirely sure. But I put on an angry face because that was the only one that I knew that I was supposed to be. Angry. Because you hurt my best friend. Obviously. But how did I feel about it? I still have absolutely no idea.

You make everything about seventeen times more complicated than it needs to be. You can't just say "yes", or "no", or "I'm sorry". You have to be falling apart because your grandpa had a stroke or you have to be guilty because you smart-assed a teacher. You have to be so many things besides smug and bitter, and that makes it really hard to stay angry at you even though I should. I feel guilty because you feel guilty, I guess, and I'm not really sure how to cope with that. I'm not quite sure how to cope with any of this and I just want all of it to go away.

Not that I want you to go away. That's kind of the opposite of what I want right now. But I want these stupid feelings and this stupid calamity to go away. The word "calamity" makes me think of stars exploding and volcanoes erupting and a boy that I knew last spring, but it never made me think of you until now. When did you become a calamity? Was it over the summer when your voice dropped, or when school started up again and you became popular? Does that mean that all of these improvements are actually bad things? Because if this stuff that makes you better is actually a problem, I'd rather have the other Michael back. The awkward one who doesn't know how to interact with kids because his dad wasn't around. The sweet and insecure one that spent time worrying about what people thought of him. The broken one that just wanted to be liked. I mean, I guess that it's good that you aren't some of these things anymore. But I kind of miss that Michael, to be honest. The one that took the time to message back. And the one that would have never have done such a shitty thing as hurt my best friend.