Dear S,
Every Thursday after school is Concert Band rehearsal. As long as it would drag on before, interminably, it would seem, that seems like heaven compared to how I find it now. Do you find it awkward at all?
I can't help it, I know that you're there, just one row of people, seats, music stands and trumpets away. You're in my direct line of vision should I turn my head in the slightest. I see you without even meaning to.
Even when you aren't there, I remember how we would look across at each other during pauses in playing and make faces at each other, and try to tell one another the time through hand signals. I cannot help but be highly tense for hour and a half or so that the session runs.
Do you notice how, far too often, I laugh too loudly or just, too much, at an amusing remark by one of my 2nd flute companions? Do you see how sometimes my smile remains stretched across my face unnaturally because I have frozen with a memory or even just the knowledge of your presence and cannot for the life of me recall how to return to normality? Or the times when my smile is as fake as could be? Then there are all the moments whilst playiog when the pain of it strikes me and I wince, and I struggle to find my place in the music again as much for a distraction as to keep up. There are all the things I notice, and sometimes when I turn my head I see you looking at me for a split second. Those instants, when our eyes meet make me feel, I don't know what. It's a dead look, one of when you make eye contact with a stranger, awkward and meaningless, and that kills me. Because when I hear you laughing at something I still smile when I'm not paying attention, because your laugh always made me smile, because I loved your sense of humour and I loved you being happy. And then I remember, and it's like I've been hit with a house, Dorothy style.
The Wizard of Oz always reminds me of you. You always used to talk about it how the dwarf who played the munchkins hung himself on set and you could see it in that particular scene if you looked closely, and the first time I saw the movie, in Grade 9 Music, you pointed it out to me.
So many things remind me of you. We made so many plans, you, me and B, and now they will never happen, and even though a lot probably wouldn't have anyway, now they never will, for certain.
I miss the friendship we had so much. I miss you so much. You are gorgeous and amazing and your boyfriend is pretty much the luckiest guy in the world to have your love.
I think I'm losing the side of me that you guys brought out, and I really liked that part of me. You guys gave me the best advice and comfort and were the best friends I could ever ask for.
There's so much I could say, so much more I want to say, and even more that I could never put into words. How could I ever summarise those three and a half years? It seems so much longer, but then who was counting, because we thought it would last forever. It's thoughts like that that make me cringe.. I was so stupid.
And it sucks because this letter isn't really to you. If it was it would be written so differently. And if everything was right it would be bursting with how much I love you, like all those MySpace bulletins. You remember.
I love you so much. I always will.
Losing you was/is heart-breaking. I know I handled what happened in the worst way ever. I wish I had tried harder to fix things when it was still possible.
[Sacha. I need to say your name sometimes, if only to keep the memories of our friendship real, just like Jake's, just like Bec's...]
I love you. I miss you.
xoxox
Sunday, May 3, 2009
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