| Normally, for me, when things like this happen, it's pretty easy to make sense of it through my Xanga. The fights are detailed with stunningly blunt emotion; the tears I shed are documented; the end isn't unexpected. But this one, this end, came out of nowhere and hit me like a brick wall. I entertained the idea perhaps once or twice before it actually happened, and I was left lying in my bed, clutching the phone with one hand and holding a tissue in the other, burying my face into my bed and crying like I swear to God I have never cried before. I never meant for this to happen. I hardly meant for it to happen when it actually did. I just saw no other way for this to go. I shouldn't have brought it up so soon. If I had waited until we'd seen each other just one last time, maybe I wouldn't be left with this aching feeling when I think about how our last kiss was so ordinary, so routine, so "I'll see you in a week." And then I didn't, because you changed your mind. And yeah, I probably would have lost my resolve and melted into a puddle of pathetic nothingness if I had actually seen you on Saturday. We would have kissed and held each other and cried and hurt like no one has ever hurt before. And it would have been horrible. And I would be hurting a hell of a lot more right now than I actually am. So I guess I can thank you for that. But this isn't right. Two and a half years aren't supposed to disappear over a text message.
And yet, they did.
I started to write you a letter on Friday that I planned to give you on Saturday, but now I guess you'll never get it. By the time I see you again, if I ever do, I'm sure we'll be to the point of faking smiles and pretending everything is okay; pretending that life has gone on just perfectly smoothly since that terrible night. By then, I won't want to give you this unfinished letter (that I'm not going to finish, anyway). So I'll give it to you now.
"Zane,
At this point, I'm still in shock over what happened. I knew it was going to happen sometime, I just never thought it would be now. I haven't even seen you yet, and the thought of kissing you for the last time is killing me. Why does life have to be like this? How is it that two people can love each other and still be destined to be apart?
I'm mainly writing this letter to thank you. When we met, I needed a boy like you so badly. I needed someone new who I could trust and love and finally be able to depend on. You got me out of a terrible rut I'd been stuck in since Patrick and I broke up, and I don't believe I could have done it without you being there, loving me.
You made me (make me) happier than anyone has ever made me. You loved me (love me?) more than anyone has ever truly loved me. You treated me like a princess, like I mattered. I will never be able to thank you enough for that. And believe me, I always loved you (still love you) just as much right back."
Maybe that's not what you want to hear. Maybe you want to hear that I did this heartlessly, cold, unforgiving. But I didn't. It hurt me just as much as I hope it didn't hurt you. It's for the better for both of us, though. I really believe that. I hope you do, too.
I hope you do well in life. I hope you go to college and play golf and graduate and go on to do great things. I hope you get out of that small town because you've always hated it and it's only holding you back. I hope you find someone that loves you for absolutely 100% everything you are, and I hope that you love her just as much back. I hope that you don't hate me, and I hope I talk to you again some day, but I'll understand if I never hear from you again.
Normally, I start over on Xanga with a new life, a new boy, new friends, after something like this has happened. But, really, nothing like this has ever happened. I have to start over now, begin a new chapter (or a new book, really), turn over a new leaf. I can't do that if I continue to update this, read it over, and wallow in the guilt of everything that has happened to me since I began this almost four years ago now.
So this is it, World. This is the end of everything. And, hopefully, the beginning of everything, too.
"I loved your handshake, meeting my father.
I loved how you walked with your hands in your pockets.
How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something.
There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions.
And I'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes.
All that I know is I don't know
How to be something you miss.
I never thought we'd have a last kiss.
I never imagined we'd end like this.
Your name, forever the name on my lips.
Just like our last kiss.
So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep.
And I'll feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe.
And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are.
I hope it's nice where you are."
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