I wish that time you heard me throwing up and I said I was just wasn't feeling well, you didn't pretend to not know the truth. Maybe I would have only had an eating disorder for one year, instead of four, if only you'd confronted me about it.
I cheated on you while you were serving our country in Okinawa. When I broke up with you, I didn't tell you... because you were already so broken, I knew it would completely destroy you. Incidentally, it is part of the reason I have served alcohol to any military personnel who came to my bar, regardless of age. It was my pathetic little way of righting the wrong I did to you.I use you as an example of a time when I "had" to give up on a friend because there was just no getting through to her, and I couldn't watch it anymore. In truth, I still feel incredibly guilty for giving up on you, no matter what the situation was.
Thank you for accepting my lame ass excuse that I was getting birth control behind your back from Planned Parenthood at 16 because "it helped my period." It was the wiser (and kinder) thing for you to do.I know you judge me for my number.
I let you move halfway across the country with me, even though I knew that I didn't want to be with you anymore, because I was 19 and terrified of being completely on my own. Years later and still a friend, I think you are an amazing person for not hating me for it. I found the letter you wrote Dad that ended with, "Something has to change." I always wonder how close you were to getting divorced.
We all know he's not the right guy for you. And so, I believe, do you.I know you don't approve, but I don't regret all the drugs I did. I still get a tingle at the base of my spine when I think about some of them. I don't want them anymore… but I don't regret it either.
As much as it sucked going through what we did, I am really glad that I now know these three things: 1) How much you actually love me, 2) That I do have the strength to leave, and 3) That I won't ever need to use it. We are stronger and better for what happened.I was
completely lost in North Carolina until I met you. I probably would have given up and moved back home if it wasn't for you. I miss you. I miss being surrounded by the gay and fabulous in general.
Part of me wants to choose a life of financial security and FREEDOM rather than giving you grandchildren... but at the same time, after everything you've done for me, I don't feel I have the right to deny you that. Or rather, that I couldn’t live with myself if I did.I love you so much, for years after I moved out of our bunkbeds into my own room, I would have dreams that something had happened to you and have to run into your room to make sure you were there, and that you were okay.
I am so completely, unbelievably glad that I found you here in DC. A girl ain't nothing without some real bestie girlfriends by her side.You keep saying you feel horrible about yourself... you keep saying you want to lose weight. I SEE how unhappy you are in the dressing room of the department store, and it kills me. But you don't DO anything about it, even when I hold your hands and cry and tell you I want to know that you will be at my daughter's wedding someday. I don't know what else to do to inspire you.
I know, unquestioningly, that we will still be friends when we're 80, even if you stay in the South and I in the North forever.I never believed it would be possible for me... but when I look at you, I truly see the rest of our lives... and for the first and only time in my life, that excites me instead of scares me.
From
http://www.twentysomethingwriters.com/