A letter to a dead friend.
Sunday, May 21, 2023
It's a little morbid writing to a person that no longer exists, yet it oddly brings me some level of incomprehensible solace.
I saw you in a dream recently.
It still feels so vivid to me as I recall looking at you from the back of a crowded room- absolutely beaming with your eyes closed. Something about that moment touched my soul- because you were finally able to achieve genuine happiness. A feeling that you never thought was possible. Throughout the entirety of the dream, you never once stopped smiling.
It brought me back to every intense one-sided conversation we ever had about it. How the room would feel like it no longer had oxygen, the apathetic look coming from your brown eyes, and the pure sound of bitterness in your voice as you explained how happiness would never exist for you. Every time you vocalized this, you fell into a scripted trance. The second you realized you were talking about your actual feelings, you would hastily end the conversation- leaving not a single second for discussion before abruptly walking away.
If you were still here I'd love to ask you how you were finally able to do it.
What changed? Did you do anything differently with your routine? Did you stop depending on substances to lull you away from your reality?
These are the answers that I will never get to know.
But I want to know. Because lately I've been struck by a series of emotional waves. Where some nights I can't stop crying, some days I question my every decision, and some days I hate that I'm moving- but in no general direction- and the bit of happiness that I've been clinging onto the last few years has slowly started to wash away.
If you make your way into my dreams again- I hope this time you'd be smiling with your eyes opened- so that way when we'd catch each others gaze- I could smile too- and be reminded that this version of myself is temporary, and that a happier me is on the way. Just like with you.
