I hate drama. i hate banging it out and complaining and fighting. I just wanna hang out and laugh it up with my friends. And I know everyone says that but I REALLY mean it! Anyway, the only drama that's ever really entered my life is always centered around or otherwise created by my best friend, Emily. People ask WHY I'm friends with her, and the answer, i don't rightly know. but I love her like my own sister, sometimes MORE than the younger one, even if she drives me crazy. So, instead of biting her head off and shooting her in the face on Monday at school in compensation for all the stress and anxiety problems she's caused me in the past two years, I'm going to write a letter. One she will never read, if I'm lucky enough, but at least I can get some feelings out.
Dear Emily:
Okay. I don't know how exactly to start this at all, but I'm hoping once I get up my steam I can finally just get on and go and keep going until it's all out and done. Emily, I'm sorry that you feel I owe you an apology. I'm sorry that you get pissed at every little thing and I have to fix it all unless I want to hear about it for weeks. I know I don't have to- at first I WANTED to, but now, I'm EXPECTED too. Big different from wanting to, don't you think? now it's a sort of duty I have to perform daily, fixing whatever is up with your screwy emotions and your overly-dramatic lifestyle, and quite frankly it's a tiring job. Exhausting, actually. And do you know what that means? I'm tired of fixing you. I'm tired of having to console you over every little thing that happens, and I'm tired of you not caring when something bad happens in MY life. or, at least, you ACT like you don't care. maybe you don't know what to do about it, maybe you don't understand my problem, or maybe I'm insane, but you realize I'm human too and I think I deserve a little consolation every once in a while. because even I can be SAD, believe it or not. Even I can be ANGRY. I KNOW you've seen me get pissed, I don't know why you're so surprised every time I do. I'm sorry, Emily, that you feel overshadowed by everyone in your life because your dad plays music, your sister's pretty, and I write a lot, even though you can sing like an angel/hellchild. I'm sorry that you feel the need to come to me whenever you find out the boy you've been in love with for less than 48 hours has a girlfriend. i'm sorry that your recent boyfriend hasn't texted you in four hours and that you blame yourself, because of COURSE that's my fault. i'm sorry you don't want to HEAR about my boyfriend, even though I listen to you talk about yours allllll daaaayyyy loooonnnng, JUST because you broke up with him. IN SECOND GRADE. I'm sorry that your friend Alexis is too dramatic and I'm sorry that you feel left out when you leave to go sit on my porch instead of hang with us. I'm sorry that I'm writing this so crazy and that maybe I'm hurting your ever-so-sensetive feelings, but forgive me, Emily, for this letter, because I have not pulled a fight with you for the entire two years we've known each other. i'm sorry you feel so horrible about your family, one mom and one dad who love you very much, and one gorgeous sister who is also your best friend, when my family drives me crazy every day yelling and screaming at me for reasons I don't understand. I'm also sorry that you complain that i never confide in you when you never give me a CHANCE to. i'm sorry you're so image-obsessed that you complain about every little detail when I repeat to you over and over that it doesn't matter while I stand before you, disheveled but still comfortable. I'm sorry you're SO POOR that you get concert tickets every couple weeks and you're jealous of my money when I get hand me downs AND hand me ups from both ends, yet never have money to buy you a decent birthday present. i'm SORRY your dad is out of a job and you hate it, even though you've never even ASKED about the merger that may send my family and I to Chicago after I FINALLY made some friends and got a life for myself. i'm sorry everything you own is so crappy and disappointing when my seven year old MP3 player is scratched and skips and missing headphones and a battery back and my phone is falling apart and is so old they don't sell new batteries anymore, which it desperately needs, while you have two iPods and a brand new cell phone along with a TV and game system set up in your room. I am sorry you feel I have to apologize to you. Because I feel that I owe you nothing. Maybe it's selfish of me, because I'm only seeing one side of this story. I do realize that you have your side to tell as well, but I've heard it all, Em, and yet you have heard nothing of mine. You don't know about the special game Sam and I play, because you never asked and you shut your ears every time i try to tell you. You don't know about my dad because whenever I say something you're absorbed in your depressing, heartbroken poetry. You don't know I write my OWN poetry because you never read it, only force me to read yours, which I am HAPPY to do, only because you think I'm a good writer and somehow dislike this, even though it is pretty much my only talent except for applying makeup, which i hate wearing, and typing really fast. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry that you know nothing of me, really, though you THINK you know my every thought. Well, Emily, read these thoughts of mine. And tell me. If.
I.
Should.
Be.
Sorry.
but don't worry. It won't last. because I love you, and you know I love you, and you've put up with me, so you must love me. because we have similar taste in music and movies and shows and never run out of anything to talk about and we always have fun together even if we're bored and we never fight though we may bicker. you're my soul sister, Emily, and I forgive you nothing, because you don't need to be forgiven. I just think I don't need to be forgiven for anything, either. I hope I haven't, and I hope I'm a sister to you, too, because if not, it might break my heart.
Monday we'll laugh and talk and sing together, talk about the Phantom of the Opera and what's going on in your relationship. and I'll smile, and you have to know it'll be genuine. Because this letter now is making me cry for the first time in a year- 365 days of dry eyes, maybe more. This was my release- let it be yours.
Loving you like a forever-soul-sister,
Jennifer
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