Wednesday, 5 March 2014

A Letter to the Other Third of AUNT

I was supposed to write an entry here every week. This hasn't happened since I published my first letter. I was trying to write something that I could publish on here, and whilst knowing to whom I wanted to write, I could not word it properly. So here I am after god knows how many attempts, writing a letter to you, the other third of AUNT.

When I think of you, I think of those endless afternoons and evenings spent in the pub, the days spent nursing hangovers from the night before, the hours spent in the library attempting to sort our lives out, and the lazy weekends doing nothing in particular. I think of all those evenings stress baking… who even knew that was a thing?! Well I guess it is now! I think of those Skype conversations and stupid text messages. I think of the note passing in lessons. I think of the days when I was close to tears and you were there. I remember all the ways you told me it'd be okay when everything was falling apart. I remember you. I remember the way you managed to become one of my favourite people without me even realising.

But I also remember the times when you managed to tear down pretty much every wall I put up with just a gaze or a few well placed words. I remember the times you'd leave me defeated and low from just a snide comment here and there (though I admit I have been just as bad). I remember the times when I really wanted to hate you. I remember the cutting comments, the dramas and the jealousy. I remember my cynicism and anger. I remember wishing you'd apologise… wishing that maybe just once it wouldn't be me that made all the effort, that maybe you would come and see me. I remember the times when you were the reason I was falling apart. I remember thinking that I knew exactly where to hit if I wanted to hurt you. I remember all the times I said no when what I really wanted to say was yes.

Mixed up is an understatement. Messed up is probably more accurate. I wrote so many drafts of this letter and I am still scared of publishing it because I don't know what you will say. But I am tired. I am tired of dodging the elephant in the room and tired of dancing around honesty. I am tired of the game playing and frankly, I am tired of how I feel. I know it is crazy and I know you are probably one of the worst risks I could ever take (at least that is what I am repeatedly told) but I need you to know. You are both the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me. And the worst part? I don't think I can ever say yes, even though I really want to.

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