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I don't know how to start this. I know you'll never read it, but I need to let them out, all these things I've never said.

I'm writing this because it's the first anniversary of your death, and I don't know if I can take it.

I want to talk about my Mondays with you, working at the vintage store downtown: the coffee we bought, the jingling of keys mingling with our laughter, echoes reverberating off the walls as we'd close for the day. After school, there'd be that familiar flood of customers, but after, the store would be ours. We'd spend hours trading stories, eating where we weren't supposed to, dancing to the records that no one would buy.

We discovered that we had too much in common to just be co-workers, and started hanging out during school and our days off, going to movies, having sleepovers. We were inseparable. But as time rolled by, from September to November, I felt what had started as friendship become something much more. A gnawing started in the pit of me, a fire in my heart, sweaty palms and disrupted thoughts. I didn't understand what it was, at first, but slowly I  began to know. Finally, I could take no more torture, no more not knowing.

So one night, right before Christmas break, I kissed you.

And you kissed back.

When we finally pulled away twenty minutes later, we stared at each other, panting and red.

Before I could tell you what I desperately wanted to, you buttoned your shirt, picked up your bag, and walked into your house without saying goodbye.

************

You stopped answering my texts after that, and my calls, and my emails. You started avoiding me at school, changing your work shifts and eventually quitting.

I was ashamed, miserable, and confused.

How could you let our friendship deteriorate completely over something so brief?

So stupid?

So...perfect?

I loved you, it's true, but surely you can't hold that against me. You, compared to Scarlett Johansson almost daily; you, reading psychology texts; you, lighting birthday candles in a cigar box shrine to Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. You made it difficult for me not to love you. You were beautiful.

So, after enduring a horrible two month period of silence, I drove to your house wearing the same clothes I wore when I kissed your lips, in the same car where I once took your hair in my hands and pulled you close. And when you opened the door in baggy sweatpants, looking pale and tired, I whispered the same words I tried to say before you walked away from me.

"I love you."

You stared at me.

I stared back.  Neither of us broke the silence for several agonizingly awkward minutes, the wind dotting our arms with thick trails of goosebumps.

Just as I thought that maybe I should just go home, you grabbed me by the collar and yanked me into the hallway, kissing me angrily. You led me up the stairs, past your parents watching TV in the living room, and into your bedroom, where you locked the door.

Not once did I stop to ask you what had changed your mind, what had told you to make this decision. Would you have, if you were terrified of the silence between us if it wasn't filled with the sound of lips and tongues and the rustle of fabric? Scared that the sound of your voice would drive love away again? Nor did I think much of your tears-you were  just sweet Kate being sweet Kate. Sweet, innocent you.
After we were done, clothes strewn across the floor and the sheets, you would not let me hold you, or even touch you, and instead sat on the edge of the mattress completely naked, staring out the window at the early February frost curling across the pane.
I looked at the clock and saw my curfew was almost up, so I silently dressed, glancing at you, but you never moved. Not once.

When I was fully clothed and had found my keys, I walked over to you and kissed you lightly on the forehead. Before I could pull away, you grabbed my wrist and touched my nose to yours.

"Goodbye," you whispered. "I didn't want to not say it this time."

Another sweet, innocent thing. I smiled and crept down the stairs, past your now-sleeping parents, and drove away.

I left that night filled with hope: hope for us, for something good, for anything but another two month silence. Anything.

***********

The next morning, I bought two coffees, one for me, and one for you, just the way you liked it.

I drove to your house, humming some song on the radio, and saw the yellow crime scene tape across the front gate.

Two minutes later, a cop told me that you were dead.

***********

Suicide is such an ugly word.

Why?

I hate her.

I love her.

How could you?


***********

For hours I sat in my car, freezing cold, the heater off and the radio on, playing some syrupy sweet pop crap that you would have hated me for listening to. The cops finally left with your parents, and for the second time in two days, I snuck up the stairs and into your room.

It looked almost exactly the same as when I left over twelve hours previous: sheets rumpled, books everywhere. There was a plate of food on your desk: a cold, greasy breakfast, probably brought up by your mother when you wouldn't reply to her calls to wake up. I ate it all, savoring the bits that I know you would have. I drank my coffee, and then yours for good measure, throwing both cups away in your wastepaper basket, which was overflowing with papers and burnt matches and plastic wrappers.

I laid down on your bed and clenched the sheets in my fists, trying to understand how I could have kissed every inch of you on that bed the day before, and would never get the opportunity again. I cried then, turning to muffle my sobs in your pillow, and sobbed even harder when I realized it smelled like you: vanilla. I sat up and pressed the pillow to my face as hard as I could, trying to inhale as much of your scent as possible before I had to accept that I would never see, touch, or taste you again; all of my senses, useless without you.

Eventually, I had to leave, my face and soul numb, so that your parents wouldn't find me. For the last time, I snuck out of your house and drove away.

************

I couldn't bring myself to go to the wake a week later, but your funeral was the day after, and I knew that if it was my last chance to really say goodbye, I had to take it. I managed to make it through the entire service crying only three times, silently into my wrists.

After, there was lunch at your house- I went, even though I couldn't possibly imagine eating anything ever again. I slid past the large clumps of women in black and men in suits and children who didn't understand what happened and went upstairs to your room.

The door was closed, and when I opened it I almost cried again. But I controlled myself. I was there for a reason. My final goodbye to you, the only girl I ever loved; the first girl I ever kissed; my best friend.

I walked across the room to the desk and found a psychology text open to a bookmarked page- a section on homosexuality. I flipped through the next few pages, finding highlights and Post-It Notes covered in scribblings. I saw my name a few times. I couldn't bring myself to read.

I put the book back the way it was and left the card I'd bought on the way to the church. It was pink, with two bees on the center surrounded by little red hearts. In curly text on the top, it said, "Bee Mine." Stupid.

I looked at your posters, your bed, your books, your clothes. "Happy Valentine's Day," I said to them, and then I walked away without saying goodbye.

*************

Your parents moved away just after that, selling the house to a middle aged lesbian couple and their adopted daughter.

The irony.

I don't know what happened to the card I left you: but I think your parents knew who it was from, though I didn't sign my name.

I wasn't even going to tell you any of this, knowing how pointless it was. Then a picture of us fell out of an old binder, and I saw you smiling up at me.

And now I can't stop crying.
Something I wrote in a car that may soon be mine.
Edited extremely to be in :iconfreewrittenwords:'s contest. Hurr.
It's supposed to be a letter. :yum:
Add a Comment:
 
:iconcaiyo474:
caiyo474 Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
this is incredible!
Now.. I'm wondering.. The main character.. Boy or girl?
Because I thought it was a girl.. And Kate was struggling because she didn't want to have these same sex feelings for her.
But is it a guy? And Kate wants to love him but can't because he's not a girl?
Haha either way, truly amazing story
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2011  Student Writer
Main character was a girl, yes~
I guess the way I wrote it it was accidentally vague and up for interpretation. But that was the way I intended it~
Reply
:iconminnemanne:
MinnemannE Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2011
Beautiful and sad... I like it :)
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2011  Student Writer
Thank you :)
Reply
:iconkuchinawa:
kuchinawa Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2010  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Oh my goodness, that was heart-wrenching and so, so beautiful. I can't remember the last time I read something that stirred up so many emotions in me. Amazing work.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you so much! And for the fave, too! :iconiloveitplz:
Reply
:iconslashcutart:
slashcutart Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
As I read this, I cried. It could be because I had a really sad, sappy song playing as well. But I'm sure it was mostly because you have that special way of capturing emotions so perfectly with words. And oh, if my heart was a piece of cloth, it would be all wrinkled from all the heart-wrenching your letter did to it.

Oh so good.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you so much :)
Reply
:iconslashcutart:
slashcutart Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome. :D
Reply
:iconprideandhope:
Prideandhope Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2010   Writer
This is written so beautiful. I applaud you for writing such a touching story that made tears come to my eyes. Go strong girl!
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you so much!
Reply
:iconmomokoistotallybase:
momokoistotallybase Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010
-trying not to cry- Dude. You know how much I love you, right?

And I seriously ADORE this. And I also have no words.

<3
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010  Student Writer
Yeah I do girl :meow: I love you too. :iconllamalaplz:
Thank youuu :iconimhighplz:
Reply
:icongoogly-googly2:
googly-googly2 Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010
I almost cried reading this. :( It's so good but so sad.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010  Student Writer
Aaw. Thank you :)
Reply
:iconili137:
ili137 Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010  Professional Writer
o my god ... so pretty and beautifull i almost cried *sob* *sob* .. nice work with it :cries: !!! ...
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you :)
Reply
:iconili137:
ili137 Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010  Professional Writer
welcome :3 !!! ...
Reply
:iconakudama:
Akudama Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010
this was so beautifully done, it stirred up so many covered up feelings in me that I though I had lost or forgotten. thank you
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you :hug:
Reply
:iconakudama:
Akudama Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010
you're welcome
Reply
:icontoseeabutterfly:
ToSeeAButterfly Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010   Photographer
this is so, so, so gorgeous. i can't even properly explain how this made me feel. i'm not gay, nor have i ever lost someone that close to me, but this really connected to me in some ways. i don't know why.

:heart:
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you so much.:heart:
That seriously means so much to me.
Reply
:icontoseeabutterfly:
ToSeeAButterfly Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010   Photographer
no problem. :tighthug:
Reply
:iconfreedom-to-all:
Freedom-to-All Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010
amaizing ! and so sad
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you. :heart:
Reply
:iconanalillithbar:
analillithbar Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
This a wonderful piece. Heart-wretching, but candid. LOVE IT!
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you! :love:
Reply
:iconanalillithbar:
analillithbar Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
:huggle:
Reply
:icondanni65:
Danni65 Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Traditional Artist
So, she was a lesbian? That is so tragic.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
The fact that she was a lesbian,or that she killed herself?
Reply
:icondanni65:
Danni65 Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010  Student Traditional Artist
Well, that she killed herself because she(couldn't)love her best friend the way that he loved her. So . . . both.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010  Student Writer
Oh. Well then.
Reply
:iconinlovewiththephantom:
InLoveWithThePhantom Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
very beautiful and sad, very nice~
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you c:
Reply
:iconsoccercom001:
soccercom001 Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010  Hobbyist Photographer
This is really sad, yet beautiful! I love it!
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you :meow:
Reply
:iconnyx-n-nut:
Nyx-n-Nut Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010   Traditional Artist
Oh...it's so...sad.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
:( I know. But it's practically true. More suicide in gay teens than straight ones.
Reply
:iconnyx-n-nut:
Nyx-n-Nut Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010   Traditional Artist
Good greif. I don't know why, but I've never understood the selfhatred bit...I've definetly delt with the social shuning...and my mom doesn't accept either...I feel so sad when I hear the stories...when one of my own friends can't deal. I just want to cry for all the pain in the world. I want to make it stop.

So, this story is fiction based off of what you know? Do you have any idea in your mind what it was Kate wrote in the book?
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
I can, a little bit. It's difficutlt knowing that the people you care about most might hate you for it.

Yeah, somewhat. Not like from experience, but I was scrolling along a teen LGBT site and saw the statistics.
Um... not really. I originally highlighted a bit of text from the actual textbook itself (using one that I have) but there was a limit to the words for the contest, and I had to delete it.
Reply
:iconnyx-n-nut:
Nyx-n-Nut Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010   Traditional Artist
Yes...I guess...I've just been really lucky. I did have some trouble with my best friend at first because she was talking homophobically, but I eventually told her and even though she doesn't aprove she loves me enough to not bug me about it.

Oh dear. That's too bad. I was wondering because I guess I want to know whether it was about herself...about the main character...positive or negative...and what point of iew the text book took.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
I have a lot of trouble around where I live (very conservative small town) but I have mostly accepting friends, although I do kind of have to remind some of them not to tell me I'm going to hell.

If anything, I think it would have been about the feelings, and how even though the book said that they were okay, she still felt disgusted with herself. Nothing negative about the main character, but a lot of negativity towards Kate herself. Just thoughts on paper.
My book took a positive view, as homosexuality was removed as a mental disorder in the '70's. Basically all it said was that the percentage has increased, and so has the rate of acceptance, but I was going to stretch it a bit.
Reply
:iconnyx-n-nut:
Nyx-n-Nut Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010   Traditional Artist
That's really awful. I was told I was worse than a murderer once. I wasn't too pleased with the guy. >.<

I see...okay. Thank you. That's oddly comforting.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
God. I seriously don't understand how they can preach acceptance and love when they go around saying that. My friend said that I wasn't that high e sin scale, but that I was still gross and wrong. One thinks that gays should just stay off by themselves and not come out and be open. He was really pissed when "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" was revoked.

You're welcome. :) (Sorry if I'm awkward. I'm not used to attention, haha.)
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconsmellymarkers:
SmellyMarkers Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010
I cried, you have such great writing skills.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Aw! Thank you. That means a lot :heart:
Reply
:iconsmellymarkers:
SmellyMarkers Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010
No problem, I'm just going to read it again ^^;
Reply
:iconsomniumruina:
somniumruina Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010   Writer
Wow. I feel like this is literally the beauty of misery. Sad, but like I said, beautiful. Good job.
Reply
:iconxsheepandmeesex:
XsheepandmeeseX Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you so much :love:
Reply
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August 24, 2010
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