I want to disappear of this world. fly me to outer space, drown me in a volcano - I don't really care at all..
People don't understand my gloomy mood, not even Abbey.
The only person who understands is you.
I really need a shoulder to cry on. Diana's too young, she doesn't remember, and Mom's too busy getting drunk with her boyfriend.
Abbey doesn't care, and Mrs. Downey doesn't even know what happened.
You are the only one who feels my pain, and I miss you.
It is the year twenty-eleven, and you are sipping on lemonade in the winter. I always thought you were weird for that.
You tell me it's because you hate the normal.
You like to drink lemonade in the winter and hot chocolate in the summer, and although I'm not sure I agree, I drink the iced drink with you.
We are sitting in my front yard, in those lawn chairs Mom wanted to throw out. Of course, I'm in the purple one and you're in the blue one.
"Hey, why did the dog go in the water?"
I look at you with confusion written all over my face. "Why?"
"Because he didn't want to be a hot dog!"
I groan because honestly, it's an awful joke, but then I start to laugh, because you're laughing.
Your laugh has always been contagious.
We're laughing so hard that we barely notice the front door of my house swing open.
But then you do a couple seconds later, and turn your head around; i follow suit.
It's my mom, she looks worried. No, wait, scratch that; she looks terrified.
"Mom?" I ask, my eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. Beside me, you mimic my actions.
"Sweetie, something happened." It's all she says.
It's too awful and heart-wrenching to even think of the following events. If you don't remember (if you already forgotten me) I'll sum it up.
Basically a lot of cries, tears, and sobs.
If you were here to comfort me, then maybe I'll be okay. maybe I won't feel like this.
But you're not here, and I hate you for that.
Not that I hate you, because I don't. I guess I hate the fact that you moved.
But I'm thankful that we still keep in touch, because I would probably die if we didn't.
Like when you skyped me earlier today, asking if I was okay.
I told you I was fine, even though I was lying through my teeth.
Of course, being you, you caught me in that lie, and I pretty much break down when you tell me through the scratchy sound system on my computer, "No you're not."
And through computers you tell me it's okay, and you send me messages that say:
stay strong
don't cry
we'll get through this together.
Of course that last message makes no sense, because you're all the way in New York. And did I mention 3000 miles?
But your words are comforting, like a soft, feathery pillow; and I feel better.
I wipe the tears that make my hair stick to my face uncomfortably.
You tell me how proud you are of me before signing off. You say that you're going to go hang out with some friends.
Friends that didn't include me.
And as I sit on my bed, the very bed we use to sit on together, I let the tears roll down my cheeks.
I lost two people that year; twenty-eleven.
You and my dad.
double update because it'll probably take me ages to edit the next chapter
