A Letter To My Friend Lena

January 1, 2011
By Anonymous

Its not normal to be like this. No one else has said anything about this at all. Why can’t I focus? Why is a time lapse? I’m not high. This shouldn’t be happening.

She ran away. If I hadn’t taken the kids to the movies…someone would have noticed. She could be raped. She may not come home…alive. She has no idea what she’s doing; I mean really she came from an orphanage. An ORPHANAGE. In Ukraine. No street smarts and she has no idea what kind of people are out there. One less. One matters…right?

Its messed up. You ask questions and I give you the simple answers. I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Yes. No. That’s not what running through my head and I’m not sure that you know that. “What do you want to do?” you said. “I don’t know,” I said. I want dig holes in my legs to where I can’t feel the pain anymore. I want to not live to see another day. I want to have this deadline put off. She did it. It’s not really me. She put a deadline on my life and I’m not sure when it will end. Before the 7th? That’s the day she told me I had to plan out the rest of my life. Because she had chosen to change her life so now I am put on the spot. I don’t want to make plans for the future. I think that you’re the only one who will understand what I mean by that. Why make plans for something that’s not going to be there?

He’ll be torn apart. He already had to deal with me saying and going through this once. I’ll go to hell. He can’t lose another friend. I’m such a terrible person. Life hasn’t always been this bad. Yes, in fact, it has. I just never let him see that side of it. And if he did manage to catch a glimpse of what it might really be like he turned away because I am the good girl and I, simply, cannot feel like that. I am one of his best friends. He just deals with it, with me.

I don’t matter. I have people that “love” me, that will be “disappointed” in me. Would it be easier if I faked it? Made it look like an accident. Made them all believe that I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sure it’d be much easier for them knowing and dealing with that than with this. Maybe there might have been something there for me. Maybe not. As I see it there’s only tolerance and disappointment, that’s all there is, and all there ever will be.

Part of me thinks I should email this to you. You want so badly to be inside my head, to know what is going on. You would flip shit it you read this though. You wouldn’t hang up. Maybe, I really am to that point but I haven’t decided yet. And you care. You CARE. Too much. You’re going to get yourself hurt this way. But I thank you. Honestly I do. Because you’ve made me realize a lot of things that I haven’t wanted to. That doesn’t mean I believe you but never mind. I don’t know what to say anymore. I just had to get my thoughts out. Hoping. Wishing. That it might make me feel better. It’s put me more in that direction. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. If I tell myself this enough times it’ll will get through. I can’t. I can’t. I am a bad person for wanting. For wanting…to die.

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