Short Story

Anxious Depression

Dear Tulips,

I saw a penguin today. It was blowing bubbles while skating in an ice rink. It made me think of you.

I'm sorry we don't talk. I just don't know how to be around you anymore, and now too much time has passed. At least your happy. He makes you happy right? I stopped talking to him too. I just couldn't be myself around him. I'm sorry about that too.

There's something I haven't told you. I never knew how to tell you this, but I really liked you. I knew you didn't feel the same though. Besides, every time I thought I at least had a chance to tell you how I feel you were with another guy. But it's okay; I have moved on. It's just - I've let that stop us from being friends, and now with my diagnosis and knowing exactly what's wrong with me, I still feel like we can't be friends. I'm not sure if it's just some crazy notion in my head, or what, but I am in no position to be completely honest with you. There is still so much I'm hiding. I'm hoping that if I get a fresh start with new people and learn to be honest with them, then I can be honest with you.

I hope you don't hate me, I hope you'll always be happy, and I hope you know how thankful I am you came into my life. You gave me my voice back, and now I can sing again.

Love,
Eve