I have been thinking about what it is I have wanted to tell everyone about our relationship.
Actually the truth is, I have been dreading this letter. I know you’d tell me I don’t have to write it, but I really feel like I do.
Everything about all of this feels all wrong. The fact that I have to say goodbye at all… it’s all so wrong.
I still remember meeting you. I met you as Piaget Hax. In some random chat room. I entered quietly, and listened for a bit, when I realized I wasn’t interested in the story-line that was happening, I left.
All I really did was enter descriptively. It was from that you extrapolated that I was someone worth reaching out to.
So you did.
And suddenly, I was spilling my life to a perfect stranger. I had just lost my mother. I was 29 and completely lost. You were 22 and just as lost, I was to learn. Soon, our desire to write a story together fell apart in our interest in getting to know one another.
Let me tell you how much I enjoyed being a part of your life. Watching you grow over the last ten years was an honour. Being in your very presence has blessed my life… and I know I have told you all of this. But none of these people reading know. And they should.
I remember our first fight. I bet you do too. It was about a month after we had met. You accused me of avoiding you. I remember feeling so shocked. You were so angry because we hadn’t spent time together. Then you accused me of only tolerating you! You accused me of pandering to you because you were “crippled”. That I would leave you, like everyone else would. You called me a few names and then awaited my response.
You came to me, misguided and young and full of fears and laid them out for me. You trusted me so completely in that moment… I felt compelled to respond. But I honestly didn’t know how. In a moment of complete understanding I had to commit myself to you and whatever you came with. I didn’t acknowledge anything you said, as per my usual response :p I just went straight to what I thought the root of the issues was. I believe I said something to the effect of, “this fight is never happening again. All right? If you are afraid that I am going to leave you, that I do not truly care for you… ask. Ask me. Ask me everyday. Ask me twenty times a day. I will reassure you as often as you need it.”
And unlike with any other person I have ever had a similar discussion with, you said, “all right. I am asking now.”
And every day from that point on, you asked me. For many years. Then one day, you stopped. I am not sure what day it was, but it was sixish or so years ago.
You were there when my father died. You in fact, bore the brunt of it. I am not sure I would have managed as well without you. Your constant presence was something I think I relied too heavily on.
Our discussions grew deeper. You asked questions most people would never ask. You expressed fears to me that many people would rather not think about. You would never shy away from a question I asked, no matter how personal. I always got the most honesty out of anyone I knew from you.
And your thoughtfulness as to why you would feel certain ways was a brilliant thing to watch. It is rare to meet someone that takes random criticism so graciously. It was a risk you took often revealing your true nature to others.
Your ever aspiring nature to evolve, to become more than the sum of your parts was beyond inspiring. I know how hard it was for you, how inside you were ready to explode. Especially in your 20s… you were so angry. And the funny thing about you? You were less angry at your inability to move than you were with the way society as a whole was progressing.
That is something we talked about, a lot. People.
You loved analyzing people. It was something we did often. You were very intuitive. I would imagine you would have had to become so… and you were ridiculously accurate in reading tone with text.
How often did you know I was pensive or upset, just by how I said hello to you?
No matter what you were going through, you were always worried about me for some reason. Me? Who was I? Why was I so special to you anyway? I never felt anything from you but good intentions. Nothing but pure affection. How did you do that? How did you love me so completely in a way that I knew it was ok? That no lines were being crossed? Who am I that I was worth that? Did you really believe in me that much?
You told me when we met, that I would get about ten years out of you. That’s even how you said it. You remember, I was so upset you would even say such a thing. So casually.
We’d known each other about six months then. I still don’t know why you told me that. You never would explain. Was it a warning? I guess it doesn’t matter now. You could be so ominous. So accurate.
Now here I am ten years later, and I am never going to talk to you again. Everyday, Mike. Every day I have had you there to reach out to, to talk to. Just to know you are there. I know you are gone, but it is such a difficult adjustment to make.
I can actually feel you fretting about how upset I am. I’ll be happy, Mike. I will, just right now, I miss you. I miss your presence.
I guess this is goodbye. Go run… break free from that which binds us all… I will never forget you. I love you, Mike.