The Things You Would Have Said

Eddy,

Me and you…we were like magic. We connected so fast. Now look at us, so shattered and broken inside. I just wanted to tell you that between all these months and all these laughs, I completely fell in love with you. Your smile is something I’d kill to see again. I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss the way our lips touched that night we first hung out. I know you’re probably partying and having the best time of your life, but I just want to let you know, without you, my life has been hell. My friends and family keep telling me it’s time to move on. Time to try something new. But I can’t. You’re all I think about. Those big brown eyes. I feel so broken inside. I feel like someone just stabbed in right in the heart. I try my best not to text you, and forget about you. But I can’t. I have to be strong and move on, I know. But no matter what, you’ll never be forgotten.

Forever yours,
Laura, age 15

Dear Granny,

I’m sorry that I never got to know you properly, or made the effort as I was growing up. I hope you did not feel as though I did not love you, or that I didn’t want to know you. I miss your presence at home, and me coming home and showing you what I bought in town. You were always there for us, and me and Melissa never fully understood how much you helped Mum after the break up. Nearly four years now, and I still think of you. I wish you could see the way I have grown up. I’m finally grown up and I’m living away from home. Basically what I would have told you, is I love you and I want to make you proud.

Lots of love,
Gabbie, age 19

Dear Brody, 

Thank you for being such a good dog. I like it when you don’t bite me. Thank you for not jumping on me when I come inside. Thank you for not barking at me. Thank you for not licking me. 

From, 
Aryta, age 8 

Dear Gift Shop Cashier at Saint John’s Hospital in Anderson, Indiana:

In 1987, around Christmas time, I used to look at the beautiful porcelain dolls in your store every day. I was thirteen - that awkward time when I wore make-up and high heels if I could get away with it and giggled with my friends about boys, but I was also still in love with those intricately painted and smartly dressed ladies standing on the shelves of the gift shop.

I saw you often, as my mom brought us to the hospital about the same time every day. When my mother and father began talking about grown-up things, I’d take the elevator down to the first floor, past the chapel, past the huge statue of St. John, his arms outstretched, until I reached the glass doors of the gift shop. It was such a colorful and wonderful place for a child to browse - brightly colored flowers, walking balloons, toys, and games. I never tired of visiting. I had been doing so on and off for several years. 

If I had a little money, I’d buy my father a balloon and a card. I would sit in the lobby and write a note in the card, then race back to his room to surprise him. He would tape all of the cards I gave him to the door of a tall cabinet that stood facing his bed, right next to the drawings I made for him in Art class.

For Christmas that year, my father gave me money to buy whatever I wanted for myself. He handed me the bills a few days before Christmas so that I would have my present in time for the big day. Since he wouldn’t be out of the hospital by then, we were to celebrate the holiday in his room. I walked down to the gift shop and stood before the dolls. I chose the one with smooth blond hair and green eyes that were similar to my own. She wore a brown jumper and silky white shirt. I brought her to you, and you rang up the purchase.

I hadn’t realized that the stand cost extra, and I only had enough money for the doll. I was a little disappointed, but I was happy to have the doll, which I named Cassandra Foxworth. I had been reading a lot of V.C. Andrews books at the time (the ones written while she was still alive), and I thought that might have been a name she would have chosen.

You wrapped the doll and put her in her box. After you put the box in a plastic bag, you slipped in the stand. As I walked toward my father’s room, I looked back and you were taking your purse from under the counter. You took out some cash and put it in the register.

I am not sure if I ever said thank you, so I’d like to do that now. Thank you. I have treasured this memory from a very difficult time in my life, and you brought a little girl whose father was dying a little joy around the holidays. Looking back, I understand that at a time in my life when most people I knew had no idea what I was experiencing, you saw me: a sad, small girl wanting so much to be grown but at the same time wanting to remain her father’s baby.

My father did get to come home after Christmas. He died a couple of weeks later. I set that doll on my dresser with her stand, and for years, until I lost her in a move, I would display her in my home - even when I was much, much, too old for dolls. 

Thank you so much,
S., age 37

Dear Aubrey,

You broke my heart. Several times. It’s kinda weird I’m saying that, seeing as we never actually dated or anything, but I’ve been in love with you almost as long as I’ve known you. You’re beautiful. You’re talented. You’re really funny. You’re stubborn. You’re argumentative. And we don’t always get along, even though we’re good friends. For all these reasons, and a million other reasons I don’t even understand and couldn’t begin to explain, you are the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. Unfortunately, you’re also one of the worst things that ever happened to me. I’ve cried about you more times than I can count. But that’s not what this is about, because there’s a few things I always wanted to say but couldn’t.

First, I have always treasured your friendship, and I’ve tried to never let my feelings get in the way of being the very best friend I could. And I really tried harder with you than with anyone else to be your friend. 

Second, and this I say emphatically. This isn’t some desperate last attempt to tell you how I feel in hopes that you read this letter and have some sort of epiphany that I’m the guy for you. I’m giving up. This isn’t some stupid romantic comedy where the quirky, plucky protagonist gets the girl after charming her with his uniqueness. My quirks aren’t charming, they’re annoying. I get that. There’s no point in holding a candle for you when I know it’s not going to happen. The reason I’m writing this letter is simply because these things needed to be said, and I don’t want to hurt you or myself by saying this in real life.

And just because I’m giving up doesn’t mean I don’t care. I still love you, and some part of me always will.

Only one thing left to say, I guess. Goodbye, Aubrey.

With love,
Austin, age 18

Dear H,

I was 14 and had never had a real friend before. I had always wanted to fit in and had tried so hard, but I found socialising really difficult and nobody ever made the effort to understand me. But then you took me as your best friend, and for a year my life was beautiful and full of a happiness I had never experienced before. I still have the card with the two teddies on it that you made for me. Sometimes I wonder if you have the one I gave to you, but I’m not sure I want to know anymore.

I don’t know why I wasn’t good enough for you, why you pushed me away for someone else. She was our friend, and an amazing one, but I still don’t understand why I wasn’t worth your friendship anymore. Ironically, she and I are so close now, even though we never talk about you. I think it’s easier that way.

I told everyone I had to change schools because I wanted to move out into the real world and experience something bigger. A small part of that was true, but it was mostly because the year I had lived without you as my friend was the worst of my life. At least before our friendship, I didn’t know what I had lost.

I have friends at my school now, but none as close as you. I don’t tell them my secrets and they don’t invite me out or spend hours just chatting like we used to. You made up for all the friends I’d never had, and even though all the things you said in the end still hurt me, I appreciate that year of my life because you let me know what friendship really was. Do you remember the time you got me to put music on your ipod and we learned the words to all the songs? They still remind me of you. It’s only in the last few months I have been able to listen to them again, and not without feeling hollow inside. I remember being able to tell you really embarrassing secrets and knowing that you wouldn’t judge me, and even if you laughed you always made me see the funny side. I didn’t think about hurting once in that year.

I’m applying to college in America now. I want to tell you because I know you’d say I’m crazy but still support me through all of it; it’s so scary and I wonder if I can really move thousands of miles away from home. But it is the only place that holds hope for me anymore, because everything in this country reminds me of you, and that I was never good enough for anyone’s friendship. I hope that away from this life I can build something new and beautiful and find friends that appreciate me for who I am.

I saw you a month ago and you barely spoke to me. I had been dreading it and avoiding everyone else because I was so scared of what you would say to me. I think if you had shouted at me, it would have been better. At least I’d have known what is so wrong with me.

It’s been two years since you decided you didn’t want me in your life anymore, and I’m still scared and confused and feel so much younger than my years, but the realisation that I wasn’t good enough for you has strengthened me a little. I know without that I would not have been able to get through the past few months. Thank you for showing me the beauty of a friendship, and that it is possible to pick yourself up after unimaginable hurt. I hope that your future is bright and full of everything you could ever want. In the end, our friendship may have broken but I will never say it wasn’t important.

I will always be your friend in spirit, even if you don’t feel the same.

Me, age 17

Hi There, Neuton:

It’s me. I lost you two years ago. Roughly. But to me it feels like an eternity. Each day without you just keeps weighing me down. When you met me in sixth grade, I had my doubts about you for a quick second. You were just so open and free. I was…well, I was shy, and undoubtedly naive. I kept to myself and you held your arms open to any roaming soul you stumbled upon. I was never one to hang out with the populars. I liked being with just by myself. But once you brought me in to your circle, I wasn’t me anymore. But I loved the person you shaped me into. You never tried to change me. It just happened. I became a lot like you and you became like me. Sometimes I like to think you came into my life because we were meant for each other, and not because it was just a mistake every teenager makes to fall in love oh so easily.

But you decided to let me go. No explanation. No Goodbye. You just exited my life and burned me out of your heart. All I want to know is why? Why were you so deeply in love with me for a quick second, and then in the blink of an eye you decided to leave me. Leave me bruised and broken. I was depressed for several years and if I let my mind dip into our pool of old memories. I know I wouldn’t be able to kick my way up to the surface for that breath of fresh air that would keep my alive. Most of the time, I still feel like I’m gasping for air trying to keep myself from running into your arms crying my heart out, begging you to take me back. Telling you how much I love you and how desperately I need you to be mine like I was once yours.

Neuton, I love you unconditionally. I always have. I always will. You left me for my best friend. Well, ex-best friend. Yes, I was hurt, but it was what you wanted and I couldn’t get in the way of your happiness, even if I had to sacrifice my own. She left you cause she simply lost interest, yet you still like her. Yet here I am always waiting for you to come back to me. I’ll always be waiting. I just wish you’d come back sooner. If you only knew how much I need you to put that smile on my face. Just like you always did.

Love,
I hope you know who I am, age 15

Dear Big Poppa JK,  

There’s so much I want to say to you, so much I wish I was capable of saying to your face but I know I never will. 

You have done so much for me, it’s unreal. When no one else would listen, you did, when I thought that I could trust no one you never let me down. You are like a father to me and I just know that you will be a great Daddy when you’re baby comes along (not much longer now)!

You know all about my horrible past, the stuff I wish I could forget, the things I was never worried about sharing with you, the pain and anguish you never once stopped me from pouring out of my mouth. Since the day I sent you that fateful email telling you all about my past you have been there, giving me a wry look each time our eyes met. You claim that you never know if you are saying the right thing, you say you’re “shit” at listening and you’re no professional. But what you don’t realize is that you don’t need to say the right thing, you don’t need to analyze everything, and you don’t need to be a professional because I wouldn’t have come to you if those were my needs. You ask me questions that no one else would ask, the ones that maybe people are too scared to ask, but the most important ones anyway.  

You stopped me committing suicide. I never told you why I didn’t go through with it, it’s because I didn’t want to disappoint you, you out of everyone. The man who’s “just a guy” meant something to the person who’s “just a girl”. Even if I get the chance I don’t think I will ever tell you that, you’ll roll your eyes and tell me that I had something so much more to live for. But it was just you, in that small moment, all I wanted was for you to look at me and think, “She’s been through so much, but that girl has got so much more left in her." 

Thank you so much.

A.C. age 14

Dear Lex, 

You aren’t the best person on earth, but I know you aren’t the worst, either. You’ve made your fair share of mistakes, but so have many others. You’ve let other people’s opinions get the best of you. You’ve let other people’s words break you down to the point at which you don’t even like yourself anymore. But guess what? You aren’t that person anymore.

Everyone has a struggle. Everyone has to deal with things in life. Yeah, your parents got divorced when you were three, and you have never been emotionally stable since then. But almost everyone’s parents these days get divorced. Why couldn’t you deal with it? You have two step-parents and two real parents. That’s four parents; some people don’t have any parents.

I know that you’re eighteen and you realize you’re slowly going down the same exact path that your idol, best friend, role model, older brother did. The same exact path that your father, two grandfathers, and uncle went down. You’re only eighteen and you know you have the start of a potential problem. Or is it just fun? Living young? Well, your 45 year old dad is still living young. Granted your father is one of the most successful men you’ve ever met in your life, he still has that secret problem. He hides it well, yes. But it is there, and you know it.

One of the biggest lessons you’ve learned in this life is about respect. The word “RESPECT” means more to you then anyone will ever know. Why? Because of all the disrespect people have given you. You let a boy mentally, emotionally, and physically break you down. Even though you would never ever do that to him or anyone else, he still disrespected you in the worst ways possible. But he isn’t the only one. There are all those high school girls that have been more than disrespectful. Stereotypes can really hurt. This is what people always viewed you as “the shy, popular, pretty girl, boys like her, so that means she’s a slut”. You only had three boyfriends in high school. But you were labeled as a “slut”. Although you kept to yourself, you were that.

But life isn’t like that for you anymore. Life is perfect as of this very moment. You’ve dealt with life and death, you’ve learned, you’ve grown up. If no one else is proud of you, it is a damn good thing you’re proud of yourself. Why? Because you finally realize that in the end, you will have no one but yourself. You’ve got an amazing family, a few close friends, an awesome boyfriend, a boyfriend’s family who cares about you, and yourself. What else could you possibly need?

Stayin true to myself,
Lex, age 18

Mom,

I have been living so far from you, for a year now. By now, I’ve realized how we argue a lot about unimportant things. I realize how I spoke louder than you. I realize how I was too harsh to you. Not because I didn’t respect you, but because we had no chance to talk or open ourselves, heart to heart. I couldn’t say it bravely in front of you, about how you mean so much to me, deep inside of me. I love you, Mom. And I am sorry about any mistakes I have made. I always love you, Mom. 

A, age 18

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I have not been saying that I love you so much. I don’t know why. Thank you for making me be here. I think that is thoughtful of you. Thank you for letting me be here in school, I love this school so much. My third grade teacher is so nice to the class and me. You are the best parents in the world. 

Love, 
Juliet, age 9 

To the man on the bike, June 22, 2010:

Hi. Do you remember me? The cops told me I was the first woman you mugged after you’d completed a 17 year jail sentence. You went on to attack four more women after me. I was the only one you hit, the only one whose clothing you tore open. I’d like to know why. Did I do something to make you more violent, or were you just the most frantic with me, because I was the first? This is a question I will not ask you, if we ever meet. But I do intend for us to meet. This letter is a dress rehearsal.

You’re in jail now, serving time for the other women you mugged, but not for the crime you committed against me. Because when it came time to ID you in a police lineup, I couldn’t. The whole time you were hurting me, and threatening me: “I’m gonna knock you out, b****… I’m gonna snuff you out…” I kept telling you “I don’t recognize you”, “You don’t have to hurt me, I can’t see you, I’m not looking at you.” I don’t know if I convinced you, but I convinced myself. When I try to picture your face, I just see your angry mouth, like a monster.

I have some things that I will say to you. I will say to you that I forgive you. I do, mostly, now. I forgive you for hurting me. I forgive you for stealing all of my important stuff – my passport, my credit cards, my phone, my iPod. I forgive you that I felt unsafe and furious for months after the attack. I forgive you that I blamed myself in some way for it, and spent months hating myself – why was I so weak? Why did I let you do that to me? I forgive you for the ugly scars on my knee that are beginning, finally, to fade. I forgive you that I will probably always jump a bit whenever anyone rides a bike close to me at night. I forgive you for tearing the necklace off my neck that was the only real momento I had of a friend who had died. I forgive you for exposing my breasts and climbing on top of me. I want to thank you for not raping me. I was so, so scared that you would. 

I am going to find you in prison. I don’t know how I will manage it, or what exactly I will say. But I want to be in room with you, and see that you are a man, not a monster. I hope that you will agree to be in a room with me and see that I am a woman, not a victim. I want to meet you with compassion for both of us, so that sweltering summer night of fear and pain is not the only exchange we have.

I am getting ready. If I can figure out how to find you, if you’ll agree to let me visit… I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely,
The woman on Frost Street, 12:45 a.m., age 34

Dearest Joey J.,

I like you. I’ve wanted to say that for the past six months.

You manage to make my days better just by being around. Soft-spoken, yet purposeful. You’ve had a positive influence on my life. You made me realize how badly I needed to switch my major. And I guess you’re kinda cool, in a totally awkward way.

To quote another tumblr user, “Your intentions are so gorgeous. Your humor is captivating. Your intelligence is arousing. I could spend hours just listening to you speak. Your mind inspires me to want to do something more. The reason you are on this earth alone and what you want to do with your existence warms my whole conscience. You are so beautiful.”

I miss our lunch dates, where we would just sit around and talk. Will you still have them with me? Will you still hang out with me if I ever muster up the courage to tell you how I feel?

Oh, Joey, you’re some kind of wonderful. I hope you realize that. But most of all, I hope you realize that I know it, too.

Affectionately yours,
Your favorite Brambleberry tea drinker, age 18

Dear last bit of humanity left,

How should I begin? I wonder why it is so difficult to find another living soul who can find value in a stranger. I understand that this world isn’t perfect, nor do I believe we can ever truly hope for a perfect world. I, just for once, would like to find comfort in someone else. Is it really that difficult to ask someone “What’s wrong?” or "Tell me about yourself”, “What do you think?” or even just to extend the offer of “I’ll listen” and truly mean it? Is it in human nature to only seek comfort for yourself and not offer it to others? After waiting and waiting for someone to take notice, I’ve decided to just become the person I have sought. If no one will notice people outside of themselves, I will do it.       

This is where I ask, am I the only one?

Nothing would make me happier than finding someone, anyone, who can empathize with others. Shouldn’t that be the way humanity should go? So many people want peace but are so unwilling to try to relate to another. I beg of you, try to step out of yourself every now and then. It may seem strange to think of others as the same as yourself, but it is true. We all love, hate, laugh and cry. We all have things to treasure. I just ask that we take the time to try to understand why one values what they do. We may not agree, but why not try to be the person everyone is waiting for? Be the comfort humanity needs.

Signed,
Another Number, age 18

Dear Adam,

You are a great friend and we have made many memories together. We are line mates and you’re the reason I have success in the great sport of hockey. I just wanted to apologize for missing the three-on-two we had in the section final game this year. I should have shot forehand and not tried to go to my backhand. If I could redo this I would. I basically let the whole hockey team down. I know this was only our junior year but I feel bad for the seniors. I remember when you got met first goal in peewees and I was ecstatic. Now, finally, we made it to high school and two years ago you were the one that gave me the breakaway pass that I scored my first varsity goal on. We ended up being line mates and you probably helped get half of the goals and assists, but I missed the one that really counted in section finals. I hope we can make it to state next year and both succeed very well so we can both play Division 1. You’re a great friend and I thank you for everything.

Josh, age 17

Erin,

I still think about you everyday.  I wish I could go back in time to the exact point where everything started to go wrong.  I have tried numerous times to move on but could not.  No one could fill the hole that you left.  June 11th, only a few days ago would have been seven years.  I had a good day that day, but at night when I was alone with my thoughts, they were filled with you.  I am writing this letter to hopefully bring me closure to our relationship.  

It has been almost a year that we said goodbye that night and never saw each other again.  We both did things to each other that were wrong but we should have fixed them.  I have so much to say to you.  My only wish is that you still think of me from time to time.  If I could see you again I would tell you how much I hated this past Christmas. I was going to ask you for your hand.  I wish I had the courage to say so many things, but words cannot form how sorry I am that we split.  You were my inspiration, my muse, my everything.  I can’t function these days without crying at the sight of your picture or hearing a song we loved.  I wish I could have said whatever it took for us to be together.  I guess fate threw us different lots and we weren’t destined to be together ,even though we fought so hard to do so.  

I know there is no way that we could be together again but all I want to know is if you ever think of me from time to time.  I don’t want to end up as some trashed memory you are trying to push out of your mind.  I will say that I can go on without ever hearing from you again; I have moved on that much.  I just wish when I had the chance, I could have said something that would have fixed it all, made us fall back in love like when we were young and decided we would be together forever.  Yes, some say it was just the sting of losing your first love, but I see our former relationship as more than that.  More than some cliché.  I just wanted you to know all this.  I hope this letter finds you well and doing well in life. 

Yours always and forever,
Marcus, age 21

Dear Anorexia, 

It’s been about five years since the doctor told me you were in me. I’m tired now, and although you pretend you’re not around any more, sometimes I still see you lurking in the dark corners of my mind.

I wish I would have told you to never bother turning up in the first place. 

Tom, age 32

Dear Grandpa,

I’ve never felt as close to you alive as I do now that you’re finally gone. I regret not caring a little more, but as I realize I’ll never hear your voice again, or be able to see you, I’m finding out I had it in me all along. When I bought you that card, I felt deep down that if you could beat anything, it would be this; this thing that was growing inside of you, and spreading its poison. I believed that you would pull through. But as time wore on and you slowly disintegrated in front of everyone’s eyes, I slowly began to blame myself. What if my belief in you pulling through was what ultimately killed you? Fate has a way of pulling such horrible tricks. I’ve seen it before, I’ve read all the books and I’ve watched all the movies. It happens there, and it happens here. I’m sorry, and I love you, and I hope you’re ok where ever you are. Just don’t be too disappointed in me if I cry.

Love you always,
Haley, age 16

Small Bump,

I guess this letter is more for me than you, which may be selfish, but this could be a poetic way of releasing myself. I’m sorry. Sorry I couldn’t keep you. Sorry, I couldn’t give you what you needed. Sorry I will never see you grow. Sorry, I never got to hold you.

I wanted to use this as a chance to say sorry, but also a way of releasing some of my guild and anger. You see, the day I found out about you, my life completely changed. You were unplanned, and somewhat unwanted. I struggled and eventually made my decision that I thought was best for both of us. However, a year and a half later and the consequences are still apparent. I am so wary of being close to someone and getting caught in that situation again. I avoid things that remind me, and I refuse to talk about you. 

But I could have never given you the life you deserved and for that reason I do not regret this decision. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about you and how things may have been different. You were so small and I tore you away from life, and this fills me with both guilt and pride. I will always, always feel guilty for not trying, for leaving you unborn, but believe me you are better off. The pride is in how mature that you essentially made me; you forced me to grow up and realize what I wanted out of life.

Although you were never really here, you have changed me for the better.

Thank you, Small Bump.

L.H, age 19

Cole,

I don’t think you realize just how important you still are to me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. Even when I try to forget, the little things remind me of you once again. The memories start to flood back in my head of all the good time we shared. I miss our conversations, the long and deep ones; then there would be the playful, flirtatious kind. I will always miss the late night talks, where we spoke lovingly of one another and called each other adoring names.

It has been two months now when you broke it off with me. I will never forget that day. The Friday of my birthday where I let my jealousy get the best of me. I didn’t mean to say the things I did. I forever regret it. I apologized, though, realizing my mistakes. It was too late. But I never stopped fighting for you.

Our road has been rocky from that day since. My feelings for you always fluctuated from sadness to joy when I spoke to you. The one feeling that did remain the same was one of love. I have never been in love. You know that as a fact; but I felt it with you. I looked forward to hear from you.. To hear your voice, your laugh. When you felt sad and lonely, I was there. When you were happy, I shared your happiness. There wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t have done for you. I would’ve pushed past anything to be with you.

But I guess you don’t feel the same. 

You say you consider me a good friend now. I should be grateful for that. But in reality, I think it hurts more than if I just deleted you from my life. You talk about wanting to have that *real* love before it is too late and you talk about wanting to find that perfect girl. I smile for you and say I know you will find her. Deep down, my heart just drops. It drops every time you mention another girl, because it isn’t me. I know I could’ve made you happy if we continued to see each other. All I can do now, is wish you happiness in your life and pray that love will find you. I will be happy for you if you are happy.

I could go on and on, on how you confuse me in the way that I don’t know how you still feel about me. You say sweet things which I don’t think is very fair for me. You don’t know just how big of an affect your words (and sometimes lack of) have on me. Open your eyes.

You will always be forever in my heart. You have a piece of me that no one else will ever get because you are my first love, and they are never forgotten.

You will never read this, but I hope you know that someone out there loves you. You don’t have to search for it. It’s always been there. I wish I knew how you really feel.

With love,
Bella, age 17

Dear Grandpa,

I can’t believe that it has been nine years since you have been gone. When you first died, it took awhile to “hit” me. Now, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out why you became ill at such a young age. After a lot of thinking, I’ve accepted that it must have been God’s will, and he must have needed you more than we do. I wish you could be here with us.

Your Grandson, age 19