A letter to a fallen friend and fellow author. Don't bitch at me for spam because I don't want to hear it.
I know you never will read this, and I wish I had the chance to tell you while you were still living among us. Alas, I don’t have the chance, so writing this letter is the best I can do.
Looking back, I don’t think I ever realized just how thankful I was that I met you. To be completely honest, I didn’t think much of you when I met you. You were just a girl with a laptop who loved to write, whose stories I loved, and who in return loved my stories just as much, if not more.
I didn’t know it back then, but over time you became so much more than that. You became like a sister to me. You know how people say there’s always that one person who knows of all your issues, all your problems, every little flaw or mistake you make? To me, that was you. I told you all my problems. You knew my deepest, darkest secrets. When people tell their darkest secrets, they make the person learning said secret promise to save it for the grave. I never asked you to, I trusted you enough not to, but you literally took them to the grave. And that’s one of the many things I’m thankful for.
A couple of months after we met, I was going through one of the lowest points in my life. You didn’t know it then, but you saved me from myself. You got to me, reached out to me, before I could do anything. If it weren’t for you, I could possibly be dead or in a mental hospital right now. If only I could’ve done the same to you, before you did this to yourself.
Fast forward to January 2012. This is about when your best friend, Christian, came into the picture. I still talk to her sometimes, you know. I see a lot of you in her, but I guess a lot of people see me in my best friend or vice versa. Around this time, my friend Vanessa lost a battle with skin cancer, much sooner than expected. It came as a big shock for me, but you offered me a shoulder to cry on, even if you were crying over it yourself, despite not really being friends with her. I never got the chance to thank you for this. Remember when your friend Samantha died? I wish I could’ve been there for you more. I wish I could’ve been there for you when you got kicked out of home and started living with your brother. The list goes on.
I’ll admit, there were a few more times when I wanted to give up completely. There was one thing stopping me, and that was you. Even if you weren’t around to talk to me, I held on to the hope you were still out there somewhere.
Before I start getting into the more emotional stuff, I want to tell you about some of the littler things I’m thankful for.
Remember how we video chatted on Skype pretty much the whole of New Year’s Eve and most of New Year’s in my time? That was, and still is, one of my favorite memories of you. Your face when my sister started throwing jellybeans at the camera was way too memorable to forget. I’ll always remember the way you laughed at how awkward I was when I was painting my nails electric blue. And let’s not forget when I got ‘high’ off a bottle of lemonade that was empty but the air inside it still bubbled. And what about when you freaked out because your pizza had anchovies on it? Or when you crawled into an air vent in your house? It was definitely the best way I could’ve possibly imagined entering 2012.
Let’s move to Valentine’s Day 2012. You and I were both single and alone. So, we decided to sit there, on video chat, and see who could eat the most ice-cream. I’ll never forget that, even if my lactose intolerance got in the way of any possibility of me winning.
What about when I had to have surgery in March? You kept emailing me until it was time for the surgery, wishing me ‘good luck’, even if it wasn’t a very serious operation.
In April, I went and saw The Lorax with my friends. That was a lot of fun-but the highlight was definitely trying to keep a straight face while telling you everything about it, from my friend’s brother ‘smuggling’ a three-liter bottle of strawberry milk by hiding it against his pink skinny jeans, to getting ice and Skittles thrown at us from across the aisle (my friend’s brother, of course) to eventually getting to laugh at him when he got called out by a random movie-goer, to my friend ending up having to hold the straw of my lemonade cup closed so I wouldn’t take a sip at a funny moment, which would’ve caused me to snort said lemonade out of my nose.
Moving on from the funny stuff, this letter’s going to be serious from this point.
Halloween 2012. October 31st, whatever. This was the last time we ever talked. The last time you ever emailed me. Then you just seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. If only I knew back then what was going on.
January 11th, 2013. This is the date you took your last breath. When I found out the next day, I was shocked. If only we had kept in contact all that time, maybe I could’ve saved you like you saved me.
If I’m being honest, at first I thought, and still think, that you’re an idiot for doing this to us (us being Christian and I, as well as anyone else you cared about). But you were, and still are, my best friend. Don’t ever forget that.
I will be emailing this to Christian. Hopefully she can print it out and take this to your grave on my behalf and read it to you. Maybe then you’ll realize how much you still mean to me, even though you’re gone.
I love you, Cameron. May you rest in peace.