Tell me his name
I want to know
The way he looks
And where you go
I need to see his face
I need to understand
Why you and I came to an end

I sigh as I sit on my desk, writing my letter on the monogrammed paper ‘Dear Bri,’ The black ink spills onto the off white paper. ‘How are you? How is Matthew? You’re both doing well I hope?’ I scowl at the paper, not at the words themselves, though I hate how fake they sound, but at the meaning of them. There are so many things I want to ask you. I want to ask you what he’s like, how he acts and talks. But how can I? How can I explain that I need a photograph of him, need a face to attach to the raw seething hatred and anguish writhing inside of me. How do I go about explaining that I want to know who stole the one person I love from me? I want to know about everything he does with you. Does he know you love nature? I need to know who caused me such pain.

Tell me again
I want to hear
Who broke my faith in all these years
Who lays with you at night
While I’m here all alone
Remembering when I was your own

I continue to write my letter ?‘What’s he like, from what you told me he sounds like a great guy. Does he treat you properly? ’ I let the pen fall from my hand for a moment, my hand is too cramped to write. I rub my temples and drop my face into the comforting softness of my cream sweater.  I look at the words on the paper, words you’ll only take skin deep and won’t see the hidden message beneath. I want to know if he treats you the way you should be treated; gives you everything you deserve, does he hold you at night? His arm wrapped around you like you used to hold me. I can almost see you warm and safe while I spend my nights alone.


I let you go
I let you fly
Why do I keep on asking why

I run a slim hand, an artist’s hand, through my, now, short hair. I’d had it cut since the last time you saw me. In fact a lot about me has changed ‘I am fine, things are hectic and I’ve changed, but I’m well.’ That’s true, I’ve gotten thinner, my face is more defined and I’ve even started wearing make up, caring about my appearance. I growl quietly to myself. I got over you, or at least I tried. Why do I still question how we ended up?

I’ll let you go
I’ll let you fly
Now that I’ve found
A way to keep somehow
More than a broken vow

I pick my pen up once more, I’ll move on. ‘Alex and Rob have girlfriends now!It’s just like spring out here, absolutely adorable!’ I smile at the thought. Most of our boys found significant others now, Trevor and myself are the only single ones now. They all seem really happy, and that gives me hope for myself. I think perhaps that our separation was good for me. I’ve grown more confident in myself and I’ve even started to date again, or at least flirt. I’m confident in my appearance, wearing contacts and my braces being gone really made me look nicer. It hurts sometimes, I suppose it will take time for me to heal from heartbreak. I snort, while they’re happy Alex and Rob still can’t agree on anything.

Tell me the words I never said
Show me the tears you never shed
Give me the touch
The one you promised to be mine
Or has it vanished for all time

I continue to write my letter, knowing you’ll never pick up on the messages beneath my seemingly casual words. You were always like that, avoiding what didn’t fit into your perfect world. You never wanted to help Trevor or me with any of our group’s problems. Not Rob’s breakdown or Alex’s depression, not even the fight that had sprung up between the three of us, Trevor, you, and me. You never saw anything that was too realistic, never wanted to, you just lived in your own world as if all the bad situations never happened. I lay the pen down on my desk and push my chair away from he table before I stand. I walk to the bay window, out looking the sea, I allow myself to think, seriously think, about you for the first time in months. Where did it go wrong? What ere the words I never said to you that you needed to hear? I shiver, my vivid imagination acting up, I miss your touch so badly some days I can almost feel it. I can almost feel your arms wrapping around me like they used to; the phantom touch of what I desire, meant to tease me. I wonder, if I saw you today would you hug me again? Probably not, it’d be too uncomfortable for you and too painful for me. I sit on the window seat, staring out at the waves crashing against the shore.

I close my eyes
And dream of you and I
And then I realize
There’s more to life then just bitterness and lies
I close my eyes

I lay my head against the cool glass let my brown eyes slide shut. My lack of sleep is catching up with me. I haven’t slept through the night for a week, dreams of you plaguing my subconscious and prompting me to write you that letter. I suppose it’s a way to expel you from my thoughts, all my dreams of you and our time together. I think after you left I finally realized just how low I could sink and forced myself to be strong, I was better than the pathetic child you left me as. I am no longer that child, now I am a woman, fully capable of making my own decisions and supporting myself. I’m an aunt now, to the most beautiful baby boy in the world, I’ve become the friend I always wanted to be. The strong willed, protective, caring person I always knew I could be but never had the courage to become because I as afraid that being too bold would drive you away from me. I guess it wouldn’t have mattered, you left anyway, but in your absence I found myself and friends who support me and love me; who won’t leave me. I wake up with so much happiness and love in my heart these days.

I’d give away my soul
To hold you once again
And never let those moments end

My breathing evens out as I drift off. No doubt I will wake up soon from drams of you. The sound of the waves on the shore and the wind slapping gently against my house rock me into a deep sleep. ‘Funny’ I think ‘I am stronger without you but I’d love for another moment to hold you, another forever and a day to hold you.’ That is my last coherent thought as I fall asleep on the window seat, my letter sitting unfinished on my desk.