If it were a bomb, I would have been dead by now. I mean, I have been staring at it for about 20 minutes; most likely sat on my porch for 2 hours. Yet, I still hesitant to open it.
In the center of my living room, a large cardboard box sits. It's heavy, with no return address. It's unexpected, yet, has my name written on it. I know it probably won't kill me, but I don't want to open it.
I open it.
Envelopes, what seems like an endless number of envelopes. Unlike the box, none of them are addressed to me. They are only labeled by numbers as if there is no attachment to them, only order. I search through the box, searching for the beginning to this puzzle, perhaps the letters will say who they are from - maybe there was a mistake. As I open the first envelope I realize that there wasn't a single mistake.
i don't know where to start, there are many things I should address first. i have started in many places, threw out many "drafts" i think i need to start in the most obvious place, even though it will hurt the most: why i left.
Nothing, except for my name is capitalized, she called me by my full name, instead of just, West. She doesn't sign it, but she is the only one who has signed out of my life, the one that hurt the most.
It takes everything for me to continue reading. Why should I even care? I used to care, I used to care a lot. She was everything, we had been best friends since grade 5. We talked every day, all day, for 8 years. Then one day, she stopped, she left, she was gone. Physically she was here. I saw her for 3 more weeks before the entire being of Emmy Jupiter had completely vanished from my world.
I continue, because I once cared, she was my family, and I was hers. I read because I deserve to know, not because she deserves to be heard. Not because she deserves the time to explain, but because I have earned the time to learn why.
So, I continue.
i don't know where to start, there are many things I should ADRESS first. i have started in many places, threw out many "drafts" i think i need to start in the most obvious place, even though it will hurt the most: why i left.
you know who this is, i know you do.
however, just in case you don't remember, let me explain. i believe that capitalization is only for the important things, the letter i is independent, not important. just because you start a sentence, doesn't make you important, if you start a fight, you are not important. you are just the dumbass that started a fight. however, if you are someone important you deserve every letter to be larger than the rest.
i could have texted all this, or called, but i didn't. there is no meaning in a text.
Maybe there was no meaning behind a text, but it meant a lot to know what was going on, it would have meant everything to me, if I got a text.
a text just says what you want to hear, a phone call makes it real. i was too weak for a phone call, I am too weak. you don't have enough time to sit and listen to me cry and apologize, so i wrote letters, letters to explain.
they are numbered, follow the numbers. i hope they will answer your questions, i hope they will help you move on.
Emmy, Emmy, Emmy. I place the letter down onto the carpet. I have moved on, I moved on three months ago, and now here it is, resurfacing. You could have saved so much time if you didn't cut me out if you actually talked to me.
This letter would never have been written, and I would have moved on, things would have been better for the both of us, instead, you do this.
there are old stories, old memories, rather you were there or not, just read through them. everything connects in the end. everything will make sense, well almost everything. just please WESTLEY, read the letters, start to finish, until the box is empty, please listen to me. one. last. time.
My life was being sent into reverse, back to the time where Emmy was ignoring me when I was trying to figure out what was going on. Everything was about trying to get my best friend through this tough time. I had to face it all over again, but this time I had to face it in detail.
If it were a bomb, I would have been dead by now. I wish IT was a bomb.
i wish i only had one reason for you, one reason to tell you why i left, but there isn't just one reason, there is many. i don't understand most of them, and i am sure you have your reasons for why i left, those may be true also. i think i need to tell you my version of what happened before i tell you my reasons.
My phone rings. I stand from the carpet and place the second letter onto my coffee table. The coffee table that Emmy picked out. We planned everything in grade 11, we were excited to move out, to move on and to live our lives.
"Hey, mom," I spoke into the phone. Much like my mother, Emmy always knew when something was wrong, we could never lie to each other.
"You were supposed to meet us for breakfast, are you not coming?"
"I am so sorry, I had something come up."
"It's alright, another time." She was upset, she usually was when I didn't show up to family events. I never canceled until the last minute. I was distancing myself from them, and I had been ever since Emmy left.
i left because everyone else in my life had seemed to be leaving, everything i knew had changed. i was scared that i would lose everything. i had no control over my own life, so i made a decision because it was something i could control. I cut everyone out because i had the choice to do so.
it wasn't supposed to happen like that, it wasn't supposed to be like this, yet, it's how it turned out. like i said, i wish i had better reason, but, i don't. my mom was sick, my dad and i took care of her, things were hard, but they were fine. i was fine.
Emmy, you weren't fine. Your dad was drinking, you were smoking, we were disconnecting. You were not fine. No one was fine.
it happened three weeks before prom, as you already know. the thing i had expected, had happened, but not in the way i had prepared for.
why did they happen like that WESTLY? why didn't you fight to be by my side, even when i pushed you away, why weren't you there? i know I said a lot of things, why didn't you see i was falling apart, why didn't you fight for me?
you don't owe me an answer. i just need to know if you believe in heaven? is heaven a place for them, a place that you believe in? i don't believe in it, i wish i did. fuck, i wish i did.