To my dear friend,
I don't know why, but I'm finding myself feeling masochistically nostalgic. Maybe it's just insomnia, but I find myself listening to the Canadian music we loved in high school: Moist and David Usher. Back when we thought that we could make something big of ourselves and were foolish, sometimes stereotypical 90s teens. I thought we would be friends forever back then, but you moved on to college and outgrew everything in our dead-end Maine town.
The hurt lasted years, probably even decades. To this day I still tear up when your name is mentioned, as rare as it is now (my mother still asks about you). I wonder if you even remember my name, or even if you think of me at all. But, I'm finally getting over you. Sure, people may look down on me for never going to college, that I'm working a fashion sales job and writing fanfiction even though there are a lot of people who might think I'm too old for it.
But you know what? I'm happy. I have my kids on here that I care about who call me Auntie and I find that I want to write for them, and to be a good role model for. Sure, it's not a New York Times best seller, but I'm happy that they like what I publish on this platform.
And, after everything, I'm thankful for our friendship. You were there for me when I was closeted and dealing with the bullying (infact, you were one of the first friends I ever came out to), and when my own family and the school pretty much told me I wouldn't amount to anything. I had someone whose strength I admired and I looked up to. I don't know if you ever knew this, but you gave me strength to endure back then. And I'm very thankful for that.
I hope everything is well with you, that you were able to achieve your dreams and you're happy. I still miss you, but it hurts a lot less now. Please be happy, you deserve it.