Dear Sam

Letter #2

Dear Sam,

It's not fair that I spill all that I know about you, but say nothing of me, isn't it? Therefore, I'll give you two hints per letter; one for you and one for me. Aren't you lucky?

I know you Sam. We used to be friends- used, barely interacting, but friends. I remained on the fringes of the group; scraping the edges of the jar of benefits. You weren't exactly at the heart of the group either; but were adored just the same. I like to pretend that I was liked to- not loved, necessarily- but pleasant to be around. Enjoyable company.

I rarely opened my mouth. The terror of making a mistake, slipping out one careless word- was always enough encouragement to keep it clamped shut. I wonder if at these times it was pity that allowed me to stay- like how pity had allowed me to come in in the first place.

 You weren't exactly a social butterfly either- but you were yourself when you were with the ones you held dear. Something, that with me, often took years to achieve. But, I have often wanted to get closer to you.  To be good friends- and maybe even a bit more than that.

I hated to go.

Sometimes I see you. Just a quick glance as we scurry to our next class, or a brief encounter during gym. I'm dying to speak with you again.  Here's the question I know you'll ask though.

"Why.... did you leave?"

"Was it something we said?"

"Are we not good enough for you anymore?"

Why, Sammy dear?

I was afraid.

I was terrified.

I didn't want you to know.

I've never been good at keeping promises, Sam. But I know that I'll talk to you again, someday. Perhaps when hell freezes over, or the sky starts falling down. Maybe than I'll be shaken enough to gain some courage.

Love,

Max