I dreamed about him again last night. We talked on the phone. I was happy.
I’m going to be straightforward about this.
Roland, I’ve tried again and again to not care about you, particularly after you cut all ties from me. I don’t know why you have decided to become such a recluse from your own life. Did you think taking yourself away would make me forget? It worked for a little while. But you resurfaced. You always resurface. Because, though you’ve taken away all communication, you haven’t taken away my feelings or thoughts or memories or subconscious. I still dream about you all the time.
Even though you used to drive me up the wall, and even though I definitely liked you more than you liked me, there’s no denying that you were also my friend. We used to talk all the time. We shared music, tried to cheer each other up, hung out a few times. And I miss you dearly. Nine months ago you told me you were coming back this summer. I don’t know what I’ll do if your plans have changed. I don’t know what I’ll do if I never get to see you or speak to you again.
I don’t know why you matter so much to me still. If any other person had done this, I’d be mad. I’m not mad at you. I’m figuring that this is something you need to do for yourself. Just as I’ve had to cut a few people out of my life, you must be needing the same freedom. But it’s heartbreaking to know that I’m not one of the people you cared enough to keep. If I was, maybe I’d get a call every now and then. I know you have my number. Actually, that’s probably not true. You probably did something stupid with your phone and lost your contacts. Maybe that’s what you need. But it really sucks for me.
The last time I wrote a letter like this was on facebook, a few months after you moved away. I didn’t say that it was about you, but I have a feeling you knew. You give it a ‘like’ before trashing your facebook altogether, destroying any communication between us. I just don’t know, Roland.
As always, Surfer Blood says it better than I ever could.