Dear Roommate

15 May

Dear Roommate:

I… guess I just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately.  I don’t know, maybe you haven’t noticed.  Maybe you don’t care.  But maybe it’s killing you, because you don’t really have that many friends at school and now that you’re home for the summer…  I don’t know.

But I wonder.

I wonder if you’re lonely.  I wonder if you miss me.  I wonder if you even care enough to miss me.  Maybe you do.  Despite myself, I hope you do.  That means that I mean something to you.  But I shouldn’t hope for something like that.  Because I refuse to miss you.

That’s not to say that I don’t miss you exactly, because… that would be a lie.  And I want to actually be honest in this letter for once in my life.  My heart (stupid thing!) ached the moment I heard the dorm door close, leaving me alone in the silence.  It was horrible.  I collapsed on the couch, sobbing.  Oh, I’d seemed all right when you left.  Maybe annoyed, maybe distant, but all right.  I couldn’t look like I was falling apart (I was) because that would just be weak.  I can’t afford weakness.  But I sobbed anyway, and hated myself for it.

Why should one person matter so much?  It didn’t make sense.  I’m not sure it does now.  But, as horrible as that hour or so of solitude was before my mom showed up (she didn’t see my cry either, of course) was that night.  It was cold.  It was quiet.  It was lonely.  I’ve gotten too used to you sleeping a few feet away from me, so the dead silence was stifling.  All I could think about was you.  I cried again, and I couldn’t sleep for two hours.  I texted your early on (maybe 12 or something) but you didn’t reply.  I assumed you were already asleep, but you haven’t commented on the text since then.  I don’t know if you ever got it or not, or maybe you just didn’t care.  But I couldn’t stop crying, feeling so alone. So cold.  I hated it.

I resolved to get over this.

If you ever read this (and know it’s about you) maybe you’ll be hurt by what I’m about to say.  But I have to announce it as publicly as I dare so that I don’t forget when I see you next (which I probably will anyway).  It’s so easy to get swept up in what happiness I can find.  But I’m too dependent on you.  I ‘need’ you too much.  It’s not healthy, it can’t be.  I didn’t cry when Fe left.  I was sad, but not torn to pieces.  I was devastated the second you left the room.  That can’t be right.  I have to get over this addiction, I have to be strong.  I don’t want to hurt again.  I’m tired of being left behind, hoping the people I care about will care enough in return to… I don’t know.  Show that they still actually do care?  They never do.  So I have to keep you at a distance.  No more tickling, no more deep conversations.  You’re a danger, something to be wary of.  So please, don’t make this harder on me than it has to be.

Please understand.

And please don’t hate me, it’s not because I want to.  But I can’t cry myself to sleep every night just because you’re not there. I can’t dream about you, my subconscious apparently so desperate for your company that it’s willing to make believe.

I’m sorry.

I miss you.

But, hopefully, not for long.



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