| it's hard for me to find a way to start any bit of this, as i know it will only make sense to one person other than myself. so here's my letter to you. dear, fuck, too much of a cliché. to dylan, it's been since your birthday that i've seen you. october 24th, if my memory serves me correctly. um, i bought you a pack of camel menthol wides, and i was supposed to sign 'em for you, but i didn't. i had told you i wasn't anyone special or famous, and never will be, so what's the point? your response? "you always will be to me." honestly, that was probably the greatest thing anyone has ever said to me. yes, it's probably because i'm always hoping for a happy ending, where everyone lives happily ever after. but in these past seven months, i've realized that no such thing is possible, at least for me. so much has happened, or hasn't, for that matter. i remember first meeting you. i asked you to guess how old i was, and you said, "uh, 16 or 17?" i don't care that you were a couple years off. hell, you were just fun, easy to talk to, and it was always a blast hanging out with you. i'd come by the shop more, with mitch, of course. hell, i remember spray-painting and attaching the bumpers to the bronco. but while i was the only girl really "hanging out" at the shop, you brought jess. she was cool, free-spirited. i was happy for you, even though you two never really made it "official." but that was my fault. you left, because of my stupid idea. i got you in so much trouble. to this day, i feel so incredibly guilty for what i did, taking away a month of your life. and then you came home. school finished, summer started, and port royal happened. whether it's frowned upon, considered wrong, etc., i don't care. if i pressured you, i'm sorry. but i'm not sorry for what happened. not one bit. and if that makes me selfish, then so be it. i wish i didn't think about it every day. i wish i could block you from my mind. i wish i could tell mitchell that i'm not who i was one year ago. we continued to talk, and there were a few sparks here and there. walking to turkey hill, the fourth of july, sporting hill. i'm sure you've forgotten, and i don't blame you if you have, but you said something to me i'll never forget. but i never said anything back. dylan james hammer, i loved you too. i wish i could erase every memory i have of you, just because i hate feeling guilty for all the trouble i've caused for you, mitchell, your family. everything. i just can't forget you. whether you'd agree or not, you saved my life that night. you truly did. i know you were hurt in the process, and i will never be able to express how grateful i am for you putting your own safety out on the line, but thank you so much. so much. so i'll try to close this letter. maybe you want nothing to do with me. you have a girlfriend now (although, i could say a thing or two that wouldn't be so nice...). don't get lost in the hype. you're smarter than that. you're better than that. i miss you, dylan, and i'm sure i'll never be able to say that to you, on the phone, never in person. but just, please, know that there's someone out there who owes you one. "i hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow; and each road leads you where you wanna go. and if you're faced with the choice and you have to choose, i hope you choose the one that means the most to you. and when one door opens to another door closed, i hope you keep on walking until you find a window. but more than anything, my wish for you is that this life becomes all that you want it to: that your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. and while you're out there getting where you're getting to, i hope you know somebody loves you." that's all i've got for you. i miss you, dylan. i really do. i'm sorry if you never get to read this, but i had to get it off my chest. always,
julia gulia |
