Everything is going to change soon. Or it's not. And then I'll know what my life will be like the next year or so.
Hippie Thanksgiving. The first year I've gone since we weren't together. I think this may be the last piece I'll write directed toward you. I feel.....better. About everything. Letting the last strings go. I slept in your bed, but not with you. It felt strange, but not really. I didn't care. I am used to sleeping in strange places at parties now. Although I was nervous your new best friend was also in the same bed. We shared a sheet. She's pretty. There was no where else to sleep and there were no blankets. You know I'm cold blooded. I freeze easily. She gave me permission to sleep there. Otherwise I would not have slept there. You wouldn't have cared anyway, you're not like that, but it's a personal thing with myself I think.
I saw your dad for the first time in ....6? 7? months. Since before we broke up. He had been drinking and I saw his eyes a little glazed. When he saw me he looked like he could cry and he gave me a hug, and said, "You look awesome! You look awesome." And asked about my plans for college and was smiling at me the whole time. It made me happy. It took me so long to feel accepted in your family. And then...
It's the first year I felt really okay the whole time. The past couple of years I would get so socially exhausted and sad and just wanted to be with you. I guess my new found extroversion really helped out this year. I met your new friends from bellingham. They were nice, and cool. I wore my new bow tie to the event and I wanted to make an impression. I think it worked. I can be quite charming when I try. I made a joke and made your best friend laugh, she's beautiful....really, and she turned to me and said, "Wait, I didn't catch your name?..." And I said, "Me? My name? I'm ____" And she turned to look at you, you both made a face, yours with your eyebrows raised that said, 'yup' because she was asking, 'this is her?'. And I know she helped you write your monologue earlier in the year for Queer Experience, the one you performed in front of hundreds of people. The one that a huge chunk of it was devoted to me. It was nice to think I mattered enough to be in that. But yeah, she totally knew who I was I guess. I have always been extremely curious as to what people say about me. I wonder what it is she knows about me. What did you tell her? I wonder if you ever had feelings of sadness about us and confessed it to her after our break up. I wonder if the things you said were nice. I am too curious for my own good, but I know that whatever it is you told her, or your other friends, doesn't concern me. You're not really apart of my life anymore. That time seems so long ago when I would care about your new life and the new people in yours. But honestly, I just can't find it in me to care enough to worry myself over it. And that is how I know I've improved. I have stopped guessing at thoughts. I have stopped caring about guessing.
I love your little brother. I snuck him drinks all night. We took a shot together. We always talk for bit when I come over to clean. He always liked me. He was the first one in your family to accept me and really take a liking to me. I always felt comfortable talking to him. I almost miss being apart of your family just to hang out with him and your parents again. It was nice. I didn't know it at the time though.
I saw your best friend (your real, for your whole life-15-years best friend) for the first time since we've broken up. She looks really nice. She gave me such a big hug. And said, "you look so good! You look amazing! oh my gosh". She asked about college and everything. My car, and job, and everything I've accomplished the past 6 months. She is genuinely happy for me. I have lost a lot of weight and I look a lot different since the last time a lot of people saw me. I forget sometimes I was ever anyone else. I always felt like she didn't like me as much as she could've, but that changed the last year or so of our relationship. Again, finally when I was feeling comfortable and accepted, we ended up breaking up. Oh well. I make friends easier now. But she was really happy to see me. She had a big smile. I love when people smile when they see me. Like I somehow affected their life in such a way at some point to cause them to be delighted at the sight of me. How strange, I think. How strange that I could have that sort of affect. I'm not sure if anyone has that affect on me, honestly. Not to make me smile like that. I guess it seems foreign. I like making people happy though. I think more than I like being happy. Does that make sense?
Old faces and new faces. Not nostalgia, but feels strange. Foreign. Like I am displaced in life or in this place. Like I am at the point where two universes have diverged. Because everyone who saw me was so excited and I was brand new and they saw how different I am and everything, and they were more excited than me. I guess because it feels like old news to me. They know me from a different lifetime and I have already been living in a new one. They say, "Remember!?", and I squint and say, "Maybe." in the recess of my horrible memory. I'm bad at that, now.
I didn't meet all of your new friends. They were hanging out together and I guess I felt that awkward feeling of, they already know who I am probably and I already kind of know who they are but neither party acknowledges the other. But that's ok. I met who mattered, I think. I didn't care too much about every one else. There were a lot of people. I liked the people I did meet. Your new bff says, "you have good looking friends" to you and, "look at these dapper people here", and I look at my friends and your friends and can pick out a couple of us I never thought about and think, we do have good looking friends. And I wonder if she was referencing me as well. Everyone loved my bow tie. I usually dress pretty classy at parties. It makes me feel good. And I hope to hope that up there when I move I can meet some dateable people. It'll help. Although I'm sure I won't have time anyway. But still.
I stayed up all night. After most people left a lot of us gathered around the fire and your parents were there. Your mom smoked with us. I told you we got to smoke with her and you cried, "You did?! With my mom!? I've never even smoked with her!" and it made me feel good. Haha. Just for a minute it did. I love your mom. She is the only one who told me not to give up with going to college when I thought all hope was lost and I wouldn't be able to make it work. She called me that day a couple weeks ago. I had been crying a lot and only texted her for advice, but she must have been able to tell I was really upset because she called anyway. Your mom is good at making people feel better. I have always admired her. She is one of the smartest people I know. I hope I can be in your life just so I can still have ties to your family. I think I like your family more than you at this point. I know them better and they love me. It's....an interesting feeling.
It was a lot of fun. And I don't feel sad about you. Not now. Not then....not lately at all. It doesn't feel important anymore. I have so many things to worry about. And when I start to think if this is something to worry about, when I start digging in my feelings, they just aren't there. I will always love what we had. I hope one day in the future we can reunite, you said after we broke up, "I hope so too. I really do." and I think I believe you. Right now I have more growing to do. And more people to meet. But mainly I will be trying to survive going to college. It will be tight.
I learned as an introvert, you left a bigger hole in me than I you. And as we were best friends, it was a double hit. It was those first couple months of agony I had admired the path of an extrovert and how easily they made friends and got closer to people. I lost so much. You don't even know. But I can feel myself a stronger person because of it now. I will always say I never would've been able to do it. I still wouldn't either, even knowing what has happened. I guess if I were to talk to you about any of the things I've been writing to you the past couple of months, even out of all of my tears, my anger and bitterness, my love poems and everything, the only important thing I would pick out would be, "thank you". So thanks.