Dear Lea,
My best
friend is dying. He is lying in a hospital bed, and I can't be there
beside him. That's what's killing me. I'm sitting in an apartment simply
waiting to hear he's gone and I can't do anything about it, I can't
hold his hand, I can't tell him I love him, I can't see his smile one
last time... My best friend is dying, and I am sitting here, hundreds of
miles away, wishing I could ease his pain or steady his breathing or
sing him to sleep or touch his face as he drifts away from me. I wanted
to be there when he went. So that I can know that he's alright. If he
dies and the next time I see him is lying in a coffin; it won't seem
real, it won't seem right. Seeing a face that's never been
peaceful, lying there, motionless. It's hard to grasp. It's hard to
accept. I don't know how to accept this.
Sitting here, in a pale
tan apartment, waiting to hear that he got his wings... and his lungs.
His lungs which failed him, his lungs which couldn't breath. Those
cursed, stupid lungs. I'd have given him my own, but that wasn't
plausible. Besides, he'd never have allowed it. He's stubbourn that way.
And so are those lungs. Always filling with fluid, and now, just plain
weak. I wish he'd been given a better set of lungs. Then I could have
had him beside me forever.
He loved me you know. He really did. He
said so himself, and that's not something he'd just say. He loved me.
That way that people love each other when love is real. The kind of love
that meant that when I said I didn't feel the same, he accepted it,
because he knew it was better for me. The kind of love that makes me
feel like an absolute dick for not loving him back. I wished I could
have made him smile more. Wish I could have helped him more.
The
truth is, he was always there for me. The truth is, he always cared. He
offered to kill the men who hurt me. He offered to hold me when I cried.
He made me smile when I wanted to hit people. He helped me become the
woman I am.
I can only hope that I had some small impact on his
beautiful life. His soul made such a dent on mine, I hope I made a
scratch on his.
Because the truth is, I do love him. Maybe not in
that way. But that doesn't make my love for him any less than a great
love. He was my best friend and as I wait for the phone call that tells
me that he's gone, I wish I could be with him to hold his hand and to
know that he's safe.
I love him.
I love you,
Sarah
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Letter 8
Dear Lea,
Sometimes friends drift apart, it happens. it's part of life for peopl to leave. it's something i'm all too familiar with. living near a military base has come to teach me that people leave, whether they want to or not. it's not up to us, it just happens. and maybe you're sad right now, but it was time to part. your lifestyle was too epic and mine was too small town. i wanna be a mother, you wanna be a star. i don't think this ever would have worked. sorry love.
Sometimes friends drift apart, it happens. it's part of life for peopl to leave. it's something i'm all too familiar with. living near a military base has come to teach me that people leave, whether they want to or not. it's not up to us, it just happens. and maybe you're sad right now, but it was time to part. your lifestyle was too epic and mine was too small town. i wanna be a mother, you wanna be a star. i don't think this ever would have worked. sorry love.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Letter 7
Dear Lea,
So life get's rough. i think we all know that. but life is never something to get rid of. what we all must remember is that life always gives another chance. time after time. screw up after screw up. love after love. heartbreak after heartbreak. if we keep going, we can always start over. forget the past and move toward who you want to be, who you need to be. and that's what i've been doing. i've been frustrated by boys, school, the stress of poverty, and trying to be what others need me to be. but i've come to realize that even if i am who THEY need me to be, it's more important for me to be who I need me to be. even if my only skill in life is making shakes, i'll move up in the world of Braums. or even if my only skill was being a mom, i'd turn that into a career in teaching, or maybe nannying. every tiny skill we have can bring us up in life if we have the heart and the passion to do it. so never forget that you are worth it, your life is worth living, and your skills are worth exploring.
So life get's rough. i think we all know that. but life is never something to get rid of. what we all must remember is that life always gives another chance. time after time. screw up after screw up. love after love. heartbreak after heartbreak. if we keep going, we can always start over. forget the past and move toward who you want to be, who you need to be. and that's what i've been doing. i've been frustrated by boys, school, the stress of poverty, and trying to be what others need me to be. but i've come to realize that even if i am who THEY need me to be, it's more important for me to be who I need me to be. even if my only skill in life is making shakes, i'll move up in the world of Braums. or even if my only skill was being a mom, i'd turn that into a career in teaching, or maybe nannying. every tiny skill we have can bring us up in life if we have the heart and the passion to do it. so never forget that you are worth it, your life is worth living, and your skills are worth exploring.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Letter 6
Dear Lea,
i don't know about life anymore. it's the first week of summer and i'm sitting on the balcony of my duplex in a tiny town in Kansas. it's a gorgeous night, the perfect temperature, all the stars are out and best of all, no mosquitoes for some reason. and even now, on the perfect summers night, i'm curled up in a chair in the fresh air, writing about how much i want to die.
nothing in my life is okay anymore... there isn't even enough of a life worth living for. i don't know why i haven't tried to kill myself yet. for some reason, the daily routine and my job and exercising are giving me enough endorphins to not try... or maybe i'm just too lazy. the closest i ever get is lying on my bed, crying like a baby, wishing wish all my heart that i'd simply stop breathing. i wish suicide were that simple. i just have these momentary thoughts when i'm walking or biking to work, where i just hope i've mis-calculated a turn, or there's a drunk drive who hits me... i guess the truth of is that i want very badly to be dead, but i won't do it myself.
look, i don't know why i'm like this, so don't ask me. all i know is that depression sucks. my roommate found me today standing in my closet with my face against the window, crying like a baby and watching the sunset.
the sky looked like cotton candy.
it was beautiful.
so this is the second kid in two weeks from my high school to kill himself. it's kind of ridiculous. the kids are starting to call it The Summer of the Suicides. which isn't very encouraging. i wish everyone could see the good in themselves. i wish i could.
There are people who will tell you that getting through life is easy. That if you just put on a brave face and keep going, everything will somehow work out. That is a load of crap. Sometimes life does get the better of you and it takes some backtracking to get back on track. Pride must be swallowed, and tears must be shed for the greater good of humanity. When i first realized i was going to have to move back home after failing out of my first year of college and losing my scholarship, i cried because i thought i was a useless failure. i still feel a little like that now. and i'm still crying, i still feel despair, but even though my pride is shot, and the world may call me a failure, this is what i must do to survive in the long run. i've always been one to trust that in the end everything will always find a way, i just never realized that every once in a while, i'd have to stop trusting, and start DOING, instead of just sitting around and waiting for everything to just work itself out.
today, for the first time in three years, i cut myself. i don't know why really. i guess it just took my mind off of everything else. gave me something to concentrate on other than my head and heart aches. but i don't know how to move on. i can't help my roommates find a replacement for me, i can't afford to stay here long enough to do so... the word FAILURE just keeps coming to my mind. that word has begun to make me twitch, i hate that word. god, why isn't there a fast forward button in real life? i'm tired, i just want to go home and die.
no, what i really want to do is sing until my veins burst. just sing with every fiber of my being. break glass and make people cry. that's what i want. to sing.
Love,
Me
i don't know about life anymore. it's the first week of summer and i'm sitting on the balcony of my duplex in a tiny town in Kansas. it's a gorgeous night, the perfect temperature, all the stars are out and best of all, no mosquitoes for some reason. and even now, on the perfect summers night, i'm curled up in a chair in the fresh air, writing about how much i want to die.
nothing in my life is okay anymore... there isn't even enough of a life worth living for. i don't know why i haven't tried to kill myself yet. for some reason, the daily routine and my job and exercising are giving me enough endorphins to not try... or maybe i'm just too lazy. the closest i ever get is lying on my bed, crying like a baby, wishing wish all my heart that i'd simply stop breathing. i wish suicide were that simple. i just have these momentary thoughts when i'm walking or biking to work, where i just hope i've mis-calculated a turn, or there's a drunk drive who hits me... i guess the truth of is that i want very badly to be dead, but i won't do it myself.
look, i don't know why i'm like this, so don't ask me. all i know is that depression sucks. my roommate found me today standing in my closet with my face against the window, crying like a baby and watching the sunset.
the sky looked like cotton candy.
it was beautiful.
so this is the second kid in two weeks from my high school to kill himself. it's kind of ridiculous. the kids are starting to call it The Summer of the Suicides. which isn't very encouraging. i wish everyone could see the good in themselves. i wish i could.
There are people who will tell you that getting through life is easy. That if you just put on a brave face and keep going, everything will somehow work out. That is a load of crap. Sometimes life does get the better of you and it takes some backtracking to get back on track. Pride must be swallowed, and tears must be shed for the greater good of humanity. When i first realized i was going to have to move back home after failing out of my first year of college and losing my scholarship, i cried because i thought i was a useless failure. i still feel a little like that now. and i'm still crying, i still feel despair, but even though my pride is shot, and the world may call me a failure, this is what i must do to survive in the long run. i've always been one to trust that in the end everything will always find a way, i just never realized that every once in a while, i'd have to stop trusting, and start DOING, instead of just sitting around and waiting for everything to just work itself out.
today, for the first time in three years, i cut myself. i don't know why really. i guess it just took my mind off of everything else. gave me something to concentrate on other than my head and heart aches. but i don't know how to move on. i can't help my roommates find a replacement for me, i can't afford to stay here long enough to do so... the word FAILURE just keeps coming to my mind. that word has begun to make me twitch, i hate that word. god, why isn't there a fast forward button in real life? i'm tired, i just want to go home and die.
no, what i really want to do is sing until my veins burst. just sing with every fiber of my being. break glass and make people cry. that's what i want. to sing.
Love,
Me
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Letter 5
Dear Lea,
this week i am reading Pride and Prejudice and wishing there were more men in the world who were similar to our dear Mr. Darcy. i can't beleive chivalry has truly been forgotten. if you really look at it, there is some, but there is no man who is completely chivalrous as in the days of Jane Austen. i miss chivalry, even though i've never truly seen it. men holding doors open, being obliged to dance with many women at a dance, and even simply the subtle flirting which was once an art, and which is now taken advantage of and over shot with perverseness. to think that once a woman could know if she loved someone in a month. its sad to think that now a woman and a man have to repeatedly prove themselves for years at a time before they can be found 'worthy' of marriage. and even then, divorce is so common that barely anyone makes it to the gray hair and wrinkles. sigh. i want that so badly.
Love and sighs,
PS Hathaway
this week i am reading Pride and Prejudice and wishing there were more men in the world who were similar to our dear Mr. Darcy. i can't beleive chivalry has truly been forgotten. if you really look at it, there is some, but there is no man who is completely chivalrous as in the days of Jane Austen. i miss chivalry, even though i've never truly seen it. men holding doors open, being obliged to dance with many women at a dance, and even simply the subtle flirting which was once an art, and which is now taken advantage of and over shot with perverseness. to think that once a woman could know if she loved someone in a month. its sad to think that now a woman and a man have to repeatedly prove themselves for years at a time before they can be found 'worthy' of marriage. and even then, divorce is so common that barely anyone makes it to the gray hair and wrinkles. sigh. i want that so badly.
Love and sighs,
PS Hathaway
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Letter 5
Dear Lea,
this is titled: I Am Woman
I am a woman. My job is not to simply be there for you to have sex with. You can do that on your own. I am a woman. I am here to bear your children. To comfort you. To support you. And to love you. So stop pinching my ass. That's not what it's there for. Stop grabbing my breasts, they're for something else. Stop staring at me as if i'm a piece of meat, because i'll serve it to you raw if you don't respect it. And then you'll get food poisoning, and there may be some arsenic involved. So don’t degrade my body, look deeper, to my soul. Or i'll rip yours right out of your body.
I want to be held, but in love, not in lust. I want sweet words whispered to me, because I need to be comforted too. I want you to make love to me, but not because you're horny. So please just respect me.
lol,
PSHathaway
this is titled: I Am Woman
I am a woman. My job is not to simply be there for you to have sex with. You can do that on your own. I am a woman. I am here to bear your children. To comfort you. To support you. And to love you. So stop pinching my ass. That's not what it's there for. Stop grabbing my breasts, they're for something else. Stop staring at me as if i'm a piece of meat, because i'll serve it to you raw if you don't respect it. And then you'll get food poisoning, and there may be some arsenic involved. So don’t degrade my body, look deeper, to my soul. Or i'll rip yours right out of your body.
I want to be held, but in love, not in lust. I want sweet words whispered to me, because I need to be comforted too. I want you to make love to me, but not because you're horny. So please just respect me.
lol,
PSHathaway
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