The Things You Would Have Said
Month
Eric,
I have so many things that I wish I would have said to you. I should have told you to ‘fuck off’ when you told me I couldn’t go out with my friends. I should have yelled just a little louder when you were throwing things at me, or shoving me up against the wall. I should have given that meaningless ring back so I wouldn’t still be stuck with it today. But out of all the things I should have told you, I should have made you hear me when I said 'No’.
-Me, age 25
Dear DJ,
The only way I remember you is crazy and drunk most of the time. And that is the way I don’t want to remember you. The day you decided to leave the house, Steve and I just wanted to hunt you down and tell you you need help. Every time you get drunk, it makes me unhappy and the people around me unhappy. You’ve hurt my parents, my brother, and my sister.
Do you even remember when you promised on my grandmother’s deathbed that you would get help? But you only got worse. When everyone tried to help you and tell you about your problems, you only drank more. Jake, Erika, Brody, and I played dumb when you said you were going to get Steve some food and you actually went outside just to get a smoke and a drink. We watched you the whole time and we were hurt. Aren’t you supposed to be a role model for us?! You’re not someone I want to follow. I don’t want to look in the mirror in thirty years and see myself doing the same things you did.
I already know for sure you’re not going to Montana to see your own son graduate from college, or see Erika graduate from high school, or see Jake play banjo, or see any of us grow up because your more interested in your drugs and alcohol. Every time I think about you, it hurts. And when I see you again, it will hurt. I want you to get help and act like a normal human. I want you to do the things we’re proud of. And I want you to take care of your grandkids. I want you to take care of everyone you love.
Your Niece,
Jessie, age 13
Dear John,
You passed away September 1, 2009. You were my best friend as well as the longest friendship I had ever had. I will never forget the day we met, at the I-Ball at the Naval Academy, when you were a midshipman in your first year. You were 18, I was 17. Every day I see the photo of us from that night you bravely asked me for a dance. Who knew it would have turned out to become a lifelong friendship? You wrote me nearly every week since that night for years. We grew up together through letters, phone calls, e-mails, visits. Those crucial years of massive change from teenagers to adults–university, relationships, commitments, grad school, PCS’s, careers, family and deployments.
The last time I heard your voice was right before you deployed to Afghanistan and I was in my first year of medical school. Not even an hour passed when you called after I saw your Facebook relationship status as ‘married’ and I felt completely gutted. It was as if you could read my mind. You said you called because you felt like you “owed” me an explanation. Fact of the matter was, it was I who owed you the explanation all those years. You said you waited nearly ten years for me to grow up. You had always held hope that one day I would stop being so self-centered and unaware of what I had right in front of me, and that we would be together. That was, until the day I showed up at your door with my now ex-husband when we were on our honeymoon.
I’m sorry, John. I’m so, so sorry I never appreciated what I had right in front of me for so long. When you were in Iraq and were about to be stationed at Pearl Harbor, I loved the idea of being with you when we decided to go for it. I’m sorry I threw it all away due to my selfishness. I took you for granted, assuming that you were always going to be there. I never knew who I was, and I still fully don’t. But I’m slowly figuring it out.
Every day I think that if I hadn’t screwed it all up, it would have been me who is your wife. I would have done everything to have gotten that damn chronic cough properly diagnosed in time to save you. You know how pushy I am. I would’ve demanded every possible diagnostic test. I would’ve fought your deployment, and you if I had to, until we got answers for your symptoms. Even if we didn’t make it in the end, at least I could have had a chance to save your life. And I would have had the great privilege of being your wife instead of being the undeserving girl who broke your heart. But I know these are futile obsessions. I know your wife did all she could and more. I know she fills your heart with love in a way I never can.
I am so happy you have Gina. I am so happy you have someone who loves you unconditionally and that you have a beautiful daughter with her. I could never have made you as happy and fulfilled as she does. I could never be the woman that she is for you.
It’s been nearly 1.5 years since you departed and not a day goes by without thinking of you. Sometimes I call your old mobile number, just to hear it ring and to hear your voice even though you are gone. I love you, and I always have. I always will. I still can’t refer to you in past tense. I don’t think I ever will. You still live in my heart. You still make me want to be a better person, yet I still continue to make the same mistakes. I still don’t know what to do without you.
I will forever be that 17 year old girl you requested a dance with at the I-Ball. You will always be that 18 year old tenacious midshipman with that irresistibly infectious smile whose request I politely refused but whom I couldn’t stop speaking with for the rest of that night, and all the years that have come to pass.
Yours Always,
Cx
Dear C,
I don’t think it would have worked out between us. We were too much alike. I’m happy for you in the new life you’ve made for yourself. You seem to be doing well. I just wish you hadn’t used the baby name I told you I liked when we were talking about getting married.
Signed,
J, age 32
To my Mother with all my love,
I am sitting here finding it so hard to believe that it has been 34 years since you died. My heart still aches everyday wishing I had known you were going to die as it would have allowed me to say the things I wished I would have said. I guess my first would have been to beg you to stay, even though it was not in your hands. I would have told you what a great, loving mother you were and how when you left, you took a piece of my heart with you. It so difficult to write as I can’t see through my tears.
I grew up, Mom, and I stayed to make sure the other kids were safe and taken care of. You would be so proud of them as they have become loving, caring and considerate adults. I have made mistakes along the way, growing into the person I am now, but I honestly believe it was because I was missing you and the guidance I needed to make choices. But I did the best I could considering my age.
Fifteen years is not long enough to have your mom as there were so many things that happened in life that requires your mom. I know you were looking down from heaven when your grandchildren were born because I could feel your presence.
I don’t believe there is anything in a woman’s life that is so life altering then to lose her mom.
I think of you everyday and I love you forever and always.
Love,
Barb, age 50
Dear Dad,
While I can only imagine what you are doing in your jail cell at the moment, I just wanted to say something to you. Since I refuse to visit you because I could never make myself look you in the eyes after what happened, I just wanted to tell you that even though I hated you for the longest time after what you did to me in my room, I forgive you.
I find myself only able to trust one person anymore and that’s only by some miracle of God that he showed up. I flinch when boys touch me, and sometimes wake up screaming at the empty presence I still feel. But then I have that person I can call at anytime, and he will always be there for me. You may have taken away my trust and feeling of security, but he is slowly giving it back to me. And you are the reason he came into my life. So I thank you.
And yes, it’s the same boy that you kept me away from and forced me not to talk to. That same boy that you tried to get me to be scared of. You’ll be out in six years and I just wanted to give you a heads up: he’s waiting for you, because unlike me, he does not forgive you for what you did.
You destroyed me.
But he saved me.
Sincerely,
Your Daughter, age 18
Dear Mr. Parks,
I thought about sending you an email for a while. But you’re dead.
You have had more of an impact on me than anyone I have ever met. One of your things was telling people how you feel about them before they die, and I’m afraid I failed you in that respect. I never told you how important you were to me. You inspired me, you made me want to be the best, you made me want to learn, you made me want to lead well.
When I found out you’d died, I couldn’t believe it. You’d helped both my brother and I to achieve our dreams, and I cannot imagine a world in which someone so personally meaningful to us is gone. I’m still getting used to the concept. My friends at school couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend when I tried to articulate just how devastating it was to me. After the first day, my roommate kept giving me looks as though it was a chore for her to deal with my crying. I closed up. I wasn’t able to grieve.
And then I came home for the holidays. My family is still in mourning over you, Mr. Parks. My brother is exhausted, trying to save the band’s season. My mother burst into tears Christmas morning because you weren’t around. And what is Christmas without your Santa Claus story?
“You believe in Santa, you don’t believe in Santa, you become Santa.” Where is our Santa Claus now?
I wish you could have known how much you meant to me. I wish you could have known how much you meant to the world. When you died, a big part of each of us went, too.
We miss you. I miss you,
Emily, age 19
Dear World,
I am here and happy. But I can never tell if this is the real happiness that every person should experience.
For all these years, I’ve been searching for what it means to be me. To live a life without limits and most importantly, to be true to myself. I know, I know. I’m not supposed to be a cry baby but things such as this matter to me now. I thought that I could just go on in life without thinking about this too much. But I was wrong. It is here already and it’s bugging me.
I love men.
But I am afraid to show this to you, simply because I don’t want to hear your judgments and criticisms. I am afraid that some of you might snatch away my remaining happiness. I am afraid that we will lose the connection. I am afraid that everything will start to fall down and I just don’t want that to happen.
I try to live a life full of value and honor. And yes, I know that I am successful with that. But I never had the chance to have the life that fate wants me to see. I never, never in my life had the chance to share my real feelings.
But you know, World, I thank you for still giving me a home despite my pessimism. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Much love,
Unknown guy, age 19
Mary,
I miss you. It’s been over eleven years, but I still miss you so much. The lock of your hair mom gave me fell apart in the box I kept it in. And I lost Freddles, the stuffed cat I had that was just like yours, Teddles. We visited your grave on April 29th, in celebration of your last day. I drove all the way there and all the way home. I wish you could have been there siting next to me and watching mom hyperventilate at every turn and stoplight with Emma. I wish you could have been at the lacrosse tournament with me; that way I wouldn’t have had to explain to my team why there where two dates and your name on my arm. I wish we had taken more pictures of you when you were alive. And I wish I could share a room with you so that I would never have to sleep alone when I’m scared.
But what I want most of all, is just to have my little sister back.
Love forever and always,
Anna, age 15
Dear Junior High classmates,
Why did you leave me out? Was there something wrong with me? Did you even know you were doing it? I’ve been wondering what I ever did since that day in junior high when I overheard a group of you talking about me behind my back. I had been wondering for a long time if there was something going on, but I just chalked it up to the weirdness of getting older. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I don’t even know why it was that big of a deal, because it wasn’t like people had never badmouthed me before. It’s just that before it had always only been one person. I can deal with one person. This time it felt like the everyone was agreeing that something just wasn’t right about me. How could I defend myself then? And the worst thing about it was that I never did anything to any of you. I was there when somebody called you fat. I let you cry with me. I would invite you to eat with me when you looked like you had nowhere to sit. I defended each of you when somebody said something mean or unfair. I cared about all of you like a sister, and I never wanted anybody to hurt you.
Every day after that, I kept noticing how you would all whisper together about someone or share a look. I always wondered if it was about me. I wish I would have told you that people can tell when you’re talking bad about them. People aren’t stupid. They know. Ever since that day, I couldn’t trust any of you. I never knew when you smiled at me if it was a real smile or a pretend one. I tried so hard to get back into the “in” crowd, just to be perceived as normal. I wanted so badly for you to look at me and see a person just like you. Not a nerd, not a smart girl, not too nice. You know, those are the reasons I felt like you left me out. The funny thing is, being smart and nice aren’t bad things, but you made me feel like they were wrong somehow. Maybe they are, I don’t know. I’m still scared to sit by the lonely kid during lunch, or to stand up for the person who’s getting picked on, because I always wonder if people will think it’s weird that I’m doing it, that it’s somehow “wrong”, that I just shouldn’t be doing it, that it’s not my place. Everyday, I wonder if anyone can ever love me for who I am. I’ve been hiding myself for almost eight years now. And I hate that it’s because of you. I hate that you’ve scared me into hiding.
I wish on that day back in junior high, that I would’ve walked up to all of you and asked you what was wrong with being smart or nice. I wish I would’ve had the gumption to tell you how badly it made me feel. Sometimes I even wish I would have yelled at you for the way you were acting, for all of the people you hurt and for your stupid ideas about what makes a person good enough. I wish someone would’ve known what I was going through. I wish I wasn’t so scared. I wish I would’ve told someone.
I wish all of this was in my head and I didn’t have a reason to be mad at you. I wish you knew how much you hurt me so you would never, ever do it to somebody else again. Most of all, I wish I hadn’t lost my faith in people and my trust and my courage to love them. I hope that someday, this will all be okay, that everything will have been for the better, and that we both learn to forgive and forget.
Much Love,
Laura
Dear Mom and Dad,
A couple years ago, you made my life so bad that I prayed to God that he would kill me before you could do anything else to make my life hell. I remember begging you to tell me you loved me. But your pride has made it impossible for you, for one instant, to be so weak as to comfort me, or make me feel wanted. Someday I hope you realize, in the fullest extent, that you have made my relationships harder, my life worse, and have broken my heart past repair. When you finally realize this, though, I will still be weak enough to tell you I love you anyway.
Still here,
Your fifth one
Amber,
It seems so silly to be writing this now. You have been gone for two and a half years now but I still feel like there’s some unresolved conflicts. The day you were put in the hospital in a coma, we had a big fight. I never got to tell you that I’m sorry and I still love you. We were such good friends but the day of the accident, I lied to you.
I took your lyre off of your saxophone and I used it because mine broke. You came in that day, mad that someone had stole it and I acted like I fool. I feel so bad that this happened. I felt like it was my fault when you died.
You stayed in a coma for several days before your last brain cell died along with my hope of seeing my best friend again. I went to your visitation and stayed for two hours just looking at you there. I wanted so much for your to wake up and say you were just playing an awful trick on me for lying. Sadly, you never woke up, and I never got to say I was sorry.
The day of your funeral I just sat there, dumbfounded by the fact that it was really you laying in the casket with the pink roses everywhere. I know you’re angel now, Amber, and I know your soul was there that day because I believe I saw you sitting in the front pew at your own funeral.
You saved three lives the day you passed amber and those three people love you very much and are eternally grateful. See you again in Heaven someday, girly.
Love Always,
T.R., age 19
You-
Today is January 8th, 2011. Over a year ago on October 24th, October 31st, November 7th, and November 25th 2009, you cheated on me. All with different girls. You had all intentions of hurting me, too. I was just another notch in your belt. Another girl to add to your list. Now, I know it’s different. I know you love me and treat me with the most respect in the world. I have something to admit, though.
Every day, since you’ve been engaged to me, you’ve said I will never trust you. I’ve always said otherwise. I’ve promised you I will soon trust you; that it will come and we will be able to move on and love each other. Truth is, the trust isn’t coming. It’s never coming. I will never get the images of you defying my trust out of my mind. Your past mistakes are always holding me back. I’m sorry. But this will never happen. I wish so badly that I could forgive you, to the extent of forgetting it. But I can’t do that.
-Me
Dear Edwin,
I think of you often. I still cry. When you decided that the $400 you owed me was worth more than our friendship, it hurt deeply. But nothing like finding out about your death in a newspaper. I want you to know that the money didn’t matter. What matters is that I didn’t get to see or talk to you for those last six years of your life.
Cecelia, age 46
Dear Liz,
You think I have no idea, but I do. I know you miss him. I know that you’re still thinking about him even after all these years. You two have gone different directions in life despite living next door to each other, but I know it hurts that you can’t walk over and talk to him. You seem to be very happily married to me, so why does it weigh down so heavily upon you that he got away all those years ago? If he was meant to be the one, he’d be laying next to you in this bed as you sleep–not me. Don’t assume I fail to notice how you change certain songs on the radio that remind you of him. We’re so happy together. Don’t question what happened between you guys…or you’ll end up wondering what happened to us.
Love,
Your husband Jason, age 26
Grandpa,
My friend committed suicide on Sunday. His wife is heartbroken, and so am I. This would be one of the times that I would talk to you, and cry to you. It’s been so hard…you not being here. I got a tattoo in memory of you. I know you wouldn’t have liked it, but I do. I will forever remember that you are my guardian angel, watching out for me, and helping me stay strong.
By the way, you called it when you said that boy would break my heart. He did. But I also remembered how when you were saying goodbye, you said to be happy, and to not ever let a boy make me cry.
So I didn’t cry.
I stayed strong because I know you wanted me to be strong.
I’ll see you again soon, Grandpa.
Emily, age 18
Dear Jay,
I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long, yet only really met last year. I remember when you had that stupid long hair in 10th grade, and when my best friend had a crush on you. I never really thought about you, though. You were just that random kid who was always aloof and awkward. Yet, now I know you as this bad-ass dude who doesn’t care what anyone thinks. You’re still pretty much a child, sometimes. The “fuck you” attitude is still more rebellious teenager than responsible adult. I’m not making fun of you, though. Never think that I don’t respect you. I love you, more than anyone, but you are still young. I know I’m not much older than you are, but I feel much older than you at times. It’s strange.
We have amazing times together. I love the days and nights we spend just laying around on your couch playing video games and eating junk food. You’re pretty much the most amazing boyfriend I’ve ever had, except for the fact that we’re not together. I think at times that I’m wasting my time with you, and there’s really no point to me sticking around for so long. But I can’t let you go yet, not until I’m sure things are definitely not happening. I love you.
Love,
Hayli, age 18
Dear Mom and Dad,
Maybe it was when dad lost his job when I was in elementary school and you both were too lazy to get jobs, so we lived off savings and took handouts until Dad took a random commission job. Maybe it was when Dad got deathly sick and mom refused to work so I had to at 16, your youngest child. Maybe it was when our house got foreclosed and Dad was too embarrassed to tell anyone until months later, and the people that bought our house stole everything we owned. Maybe when it was when you stopped emotionally supporting me because you felt like your problems overshadowed every one of your child’s. Maybe you’re the reason I can’t trust or rely on anyone. Maybe you’re the reason I feel so helpless.
Your loving daughter,
Kate, age 21
Julien,
I know I’ve said this to you before, several times, but you really have no idea how much you helped me. In a time when I needed someone more than anything, a time when my ‘best’ friends wouldn’t recognize how destroyed I was at the time, you did. I was blown away. I hardly knew you, aside from one film shoot of ours, but you knew enough about me to recognize, more than anyone else, that something was wrong. And instead of being the normal, passive friend, you pursued what was wrong and tried to help. That, more than anything, helped me.
I needed someone who knew almost everyone that was involved, yet distant enough to not have biased views of them. You listened to me, cared about me and made me feel amazing. I love you for this. Sincerely. I cannot thank you enough. You have been a goddess. I hope I never lose you as a friend. You are a beautiful, amazing person and I hope I can know you the rest of my life.
Again. I felt loved.
R. Age 23
Dear 12 year old me,
Yes, mom is gay. It’s not that different; you just haven’t had the chance to experience the world yet. One day you won’t be so afraid to tell people and you’ll actually stand up for her when people are closed-minded. Because of this you’ll get stronger, not weaker.
Tell mom you love her. She does so much for you. I know you think about her all the time but sometimes she needs to hear it. She is, in fact, your hero.
Sincerely,
18 year old you
Dear Dad,
It’s been 18 years since you died and for some reason it still feels like yesterday. How can I love and hate someone at the same time? The things you did to me and that other little girl are unforgivable. How many others were there? I often wonder if you weren’t a drunk if you would have done those things. I have a child now, and I can’t imagine doing those things to that innocent little soul. It’s not something that could EVER cross my mind. I guess that’s one trait I didn’t get from you and for that I thank God.
It’s funny because my siblings always got so angry and would tell me that I was your favorite because you didn’t beat me like you did them. Little did they know that what you did to me was worse than anything you could have done to them. What happened to you to make you do such horrific things to your own child? I would never have let my child be anywhere near you alone. Never would have trusted you with that life. In some ways I’m glad you aren’t here.
Everyone outside of our family thought you were so wonderful and always told me how lucky I was to have you as a Dad. I should have just told them what garbage you were. Should have screamed for someone to help me. I never did and you hurt that little girl. You said you didn’t but I know the truth; I know if you did it to me you most certainly did it to her. How could you? You were supposed to protect me and instead you were the person who was worse to me than anyone in my life.
I don’t know where you went when you died but I know you had to answer to God. You couldn’t have lied to him; he knows your truth. How did you feel when you had to explain your actions to him? Explain what you did to your own child?
You single handedly affected my whole life. No amount of therapy has ever gotten what you did out of my head. Did you think I wouldn’t remember? Did you think what you did was ok? Well in case you haven’t already been told…it wasn’t. I don’t see how I’m ever going to be rid of what you did and that’s the thing I want most in my life.
My child always asks about my childhood and I never want to talk about it. What do I say about “Grandpa”? Do I lie?
You Daughter, age 41
Dear C,
I sit next to you everyday in Sculpture and try not to think about the growing child in my womb. You say that night was a mistake, but I will love this baby more than anything in the whole world. I know if I told you, you would take responsibility. But I don’t want you to.
This baby is yours, and due to my own selfishness I’m not telling you. I don’t want you in my life, so I’m keeping you out of it.
Maybe one day I’ll tell you, or my baby. But not today.
BethAnn, age 17
Dad,
You’ve been gone ten years now, and I still feel the crushing guilt for not having been there when you breathed your last breath. I remember the smell of the shirts you wore–that curious mixture of cigar smoke, wood smoke, and you. We didn’t hug much when I was little. You wanted me to grow up to be a strong, capable woman. I did. Maybe too much so. It’s so hard for me to let people in, Dad. I’m not saying it was your fault, or even that it’s a flaw. Just that it is.
I need you to know that I am proud of you still. That you taught me things about life that others were not fortunate enough to have learned. You were a free spirit, and I know that’s why you couldn’t stay. Now, I know. A cage for you would have been a kind of death to your soul.
I’m very glad you lived your life the way you wanted to. I wish I could have been there to hold your hand that last time, and give you a soft kiss on the cheek and tell you how much I love you. It never seems said enough when you’re here, and said too much after you’re gone. You would be proud of me, I hope. I know I was always proud to say you were my father.
Love,
Carriebear
Dear Ron,
Perhaps this email that will go nowhere will unburden me. I only wish I had the opportunity to express my heartache to you, but I know that your wife will read your emails. When I found you on the internet four years ago, I was dazed with happiness and a large measure of sorrow. We emailed many times and you asked me why I gave you up and how deeply “the hurt was that I put on you." I hedged and danced around telling you the real story, but wouldn’t or couldn’t get it out. Now, four years later, I am willing and so eager to tell you what really happened and of course I can’t. I would like you to know that you were the boy I loved and probably still do. Fifty-one years have gone by and still I think about you.
We were boyfriend/girlfriend for four years during our college years and God knows we had little money and time to spend together. When you graduated college and our family attended the ceremony, we then went into Chicago to party at your folks. When my Mom saw that you did not live in splendor, she was furious with me as I knew she would be. She picked on me for months and one day, she suggested that I should be thinking about something besides you and marriage. I allowed her to manipulate me and I treated you so very badly by not taking your calls, or throwing away your letters.
Whenever I was at the airport or a strange city, I always checked the phone book for you. When I found you, I was able to tell you how sorry I was for the heartache I caused you. You’ve been very successful and I’m so proud of you. I pray daily that I will get the chance to tell you why I broke up with you. I want this more than anything. I also wish my Mom could know of the success you achieved. Old love is the best.
Mary, age 73
Dear Mom,
I never said this to you: when we go out, you look so beautiful and I always miss you when I go visit my Daddy. Thank you for being such a great mom. I love you so much. Happy Mother’s Day.
Love,
Sage, age 10
Dear Mom,
I now know that your self-confidence must have always been pretty low, because the things that you have said to me seem to be a reflection of what you were feeling about yourself. Now finishing my first semester in college, I have realized that all the things you have told me are a lie. You should know that while you are certainly not fat at a size 4, with all of your exercising and obsession, I am also not fat at a jeans size 12.
My struggles with my weight has always been painful, but nothing hurts more than having your own mother make comments about it on a daily basis, whether it be about my sheer size, or about what and how much I would eat. I also know that I am not your “beautiful” daughter, clearly expressed by the way you wouldn’t even call me beautiful before my prom, when I felt the most beautiful in my life.
Now that I am in college, it is evident that all of the things you have said to me to make me self-conscious have been a lie. Here, even though their intentions are not always pure, guys want to dance with me, talk to me, and know me. They call me beautiful, gorgeous, sexy. Now that I am away from you, you can no longer bring me down.
I wish that I knew what I know now in middle and high school. It would have been nice going through an impressionable time with love, support, and self-confidence.
From,
Your second and least favorite daughter,
Alana
Dear Mac,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.
Love, Me
Dear Math Teacher,
I had you as my freshman geometry teacher. I’m now at the end of my junior year. This past weekend, your unexpected death shook the whole school. I was utterly shocked. I walked into the building Monday morning and stepped into that math hallway. Posters lined the walls with people writing notes to you. Pins were being worn in memory of you. My math classes were hard that day. I didn’t expect it to be that difficult to get through the day, since I never kept in touch with you after freshman year.
Though, you always asked how I was when you saw me and said hi to me in the halls. Just being able to see so many students come together to celebrate your life and recognize how much of an inspirational man you were is truly moving. Our whole student body came together to support and lean on each other through this awful time. Your death made us stronger. It made us realize that we need to tell the people we love and admire that we love and admire them.
I am still shook up over your death. I now realize how much of an impact you made on my life. You helped me through that scary freshman year, helped me see that every problem doesn’t get answered quickly. But most of all, you have helped me realize that I can prove to myself that I can excel.
You always drew the perfect circle. You made us close our eyes when you drew it. You didn’t want us to see your secret. Now I know that the perfect circle is for us. It fits all of our student body and staff, all our happiness and hardships. It fits all of us because we are a community. We are there for each other, no matter what. I am so thankful for the wonderful teachers at that school. All of them have helped make me who I am today.
You will remain in our hearts forever. Thank you for everything.
Your Student, age 17
Dear Logan,
So tomorrow it will be four years. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of you. There is not a moment in the day that I do not wish that you were still here. Every single day I wish that I could just hold you one last time, I wish that I could smell you again, I wish I could see those beautiful blue eyes of yours. Every morning when I get out of the shower, I look in the mirror and the first thing I see is the necklace you bought me five years ago. I never take it off. It is a part of me and forever will be. The second thing I notice is the tattoo that I got. The angel on my shoulder reminds me every day that you are there with me. It reminds me that even in my darkest days that I am not alone.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not think about the last time we talked. That Wednesday night was the worst night of my life and I didn’t even know it then. I said those three words that should not have been said at all… “I hate you”. I pray to God every single night that you forgave me for those words before you were gone. I wish that I had a chance to go back and say that I loved you. To tell you that I was in love with you more than you knew. You were my everything, and to this day you still are. I wish I could see you again, just for a moment. You were my life Logan. You were my everything.
The days never get easier, the nights never give in. The more time that passes it makes me miss you more. I am just able to tolerate the fact that you are not here anymore. I keep thinking that you are just going to show up one day. Every single time that I am driving down 49 I think of you. I think about going to see you. I think about just driving to your house and holding you like we used to do. I think about all the dumb moments that we had together. You were and still are the one and only true love of my life. You left before I got to say goodbye and I am heartbroken because of that. You were too young to go. You had so much to show everyone. You had so many more lives to change. You changed my life in more ways than you could ever imagine. You made me who I am today. I love you Logan Wayne! Forever and always!! Peaches and Plums!! Beery and Logi Pooh! I love you.
Forever and always missing you,
MaRae, age 20
Dear “friends,”
After all those years listening to and fixing your problems, I would have thought that you would do the same for me when I needed you. I feel so alone thanks to you all. I feel like a background noise when I talk to you all. I feel like I’m just “the back up plan” when your plans for the day fail. I feel like you all forgot everything I’ve done for you. I feel like I don’t mean anything to you people.
I don’t regret helping you. I don’t regret ever meeting you. What I do regret is letting you forget about me. I don’t deserve this. I know I deserve better, but the honest truth is this is no one better.
Thanks, guys.
Amanda, age 16
Dearest friend,
The first time I met you, I knew there would be trouble, and not in the usual manner. There will be no “boy meets girl, guy likes girl, guy gets with girl” story. When you told me how much you care, how much you want me, love me… I just couldn’t reciprocate. I don’t feel that way towards you. What I feel is nothing but friendship and the thought of anything more doesn’t appeal to me. I told you that I just didn’t want to date, that I’m comfortable being alone, and you said you’d wait.
But I just wish you’d move on. You are a dear friend, one I hope to have for a while, but the truth is I don’t love you. Not in the way you love me anyways. I’m so sorry, I really am. I wish I could change my feelings, that I could materialize some inkling of attraction for you from my stone heart, but I can’t. Sometimes I think I should just date you, just to please you, but I know that in the end, it would kill you just as it would kill me.
I wish you all the happiness in the world, because you deserve it after putting up with me. You’ve been hurt, I see it. By me, and by others, haven’t you? But I can’t fix you, and you can’t fix me. Your hints about us getting together do not go unnoticed, dear friend. Every time you make a comment about dating, or love, or relationships, I tense up and want to run as far as possible, because the thought of being close to you like that is just something I want.
Please, please, I hate hurting you like this. Stop loving me. Please move on. Find someone a hundred times better than me, rub it in my face, please, anything. Just don’t want me anymore. I love you, I’ll say it a million times, but I love you as I would my brother, not my boyfriend. I love you; please, don’t love me.
Your friend, age 18