I’ve been trying for weeks to figure out what I would say if I saw you again. I must have assumed, somewhere in my head, that it was an inevitability, even while denying that our fight and argument has had any effect on me at all, and that you would even step foot on US soil again regardless. Seeing you here this morning was somehow unsurprising in the most surprising way of all - like getting something in the mail you completely forgot you ordered a few weeks ago. And I know I left the room while you were there without saying a word, but I think, for the first time in our lives, I was truly speechless.
We’ve had more than our fair share of problems lately. One fight after another until they’re all blending in and I don’t even remember what the root cause of it is. The aftermath, certainly, that I can remember and assess and I’ve done so in antagonizing detail over the past few weeks. (My apartment is oddly quiet, too still, and it leaves too much room for me and my thoughts.)
I don’t care about why we were fighting. It’s been so long, I can’t even remember the origins. What I do care about is that since you’ve been gone, my heart has felt a burden worse than any break up I’ve ever been through, worse than the time I lost all my Barbra music on my iTunes, worse than the time I tried to run away in seventh grade and Erik ratted us out to your parents that I was living in your room. You are my best friend, and mourning you has been the absolute worst thing I’ve ever attempted to do.
Perhaps I tried playing the victim a little, and maybe I acted like I didn’t care. It was easier, that way, than explaining to everyone that I do care, so much. That I was moments away from flying to London and shaking you because we are supposed to be better than this.
I love you, Effy. I know that in the face of emotion you tend to flee, but I’ve seen you at your best and your worst and though you may not care about many things, I know you love me. It’s why we’ve been fighting for months, why we still continue to go around and around. If I was anyone else, you would have gotten rid of me years ago and none of this would happen.
I’m sorry I tried to control the situation. I’m sorry I said you couldn’t go somewhere. I was panicking, I was terrified, and as unstable as the ground has been between us lately, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to have you in my life like I did if you left. I pushed you away instead of fighting harder for us, and I have no idea how to rectify that except my deepest apologies.
I got your present on Friday. I know it came anonymously, the tiara, but it also had international postage and you’re the only person I’ve known to be in England in the past few months. I know it isn’t enough to fix us, but the fact that you reached out first, however small, was enough to remind me that you care.
I think I just needed that. The reminder that this isn’t a one way street, even when it feels like it sometimes. I’m never going to ask you to change, and I would never want you to - I just want to feel like you care about me as much as I care about you.
I doubt you’ll even read this letter, but if you do...maybe we can talk about working this through, you and I? I don’t want to lose you, Effy. I’m not ready for us to say goodbye just yet.
Love always,
R ★
