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Letter to an imaginary friend


Sara
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[SIZE=1]I haven't heard from you in a while--it seems like forever. How've you been, anyway? I can't remember the last time we talked... It's not your fault, of course.

Heh. I still remember all the games we used to play. Weren't they great? They'd last for weeks, some of them, and we never seemed to get tired of them. Remember the time I was kidnapped by Captain Hook and you had to come and rescue me? Or the time you and Trixie were lost in the woods and Mart and I had to find you?

A lot has happened since then. My first crush on a real (flesh and blood, not just words on a page) person came and went. So did a few others. I've even been asked out on a date! I know we both said we'd never date anyone, but that was a long time ago. Things were simpler then (although they didn't seem that way.) I'd give anything to have my biggest worry be wether or not my Cerulean crayon was broken.

I didn't say yes--to the boy, I mean. I wonder what you would have done? I think I wanted too, but I was too scared. I never did get over being shy, even when we were playing with Rosie. You remember how sassy she was, and how I acted around her? You were right, it was just an act. Rosie...Yeah, I haven't heard from her, either.

Yeah, I'm still shy. I remember Mrs. Glowacki reading us that story about late bloomers--Well, here's one that hasn't bloomed some eleven years later. Has it really been that long?

I'm in high school now. Wow...I never would have believed it, all those years ago, but there's a lot you don't know about me. I got braces in the fifth grade--remember how scared I was about growing up, because I thought I would have to get braces? I guess they weren't as bad as all that. And growing up seems to have happened when I wasn't paying attention. Funny how that works.

When I had braces, I wasn't supposed to eat anything chewy or crunchy--which rules out just about everything expect soup and mashed potatoes. The day I got them off, Mom bought me a tub of Jelly Bellies. Heh, I love her. I'm still the only person I know who likes popcorn flavored jelly beans.

Oh--and I still don't like popcorn. Heh. I still don't like fruitcake, either--remember how Lindsay and Lauren used to like it, and we couldn't believe it? I've never tried tofu after that first time, and I really have no intention of ever doing so. Avocadoes, though--I like those, now. And I still love chives and rhubarb and asperagus and spinach.

We moved. So we don't have a rhubarb patch anymore. It's strange--not about the rhubarb, just about moving. I mean...I lived in that old house forever! And now I don't. I have my own room, now. It is nice not having to share a room with Carmen. It's strange, too, but I'm never lonely about it. It's good to have a place to myself, where the mess is (for the first time ever) 100% MINE.

So Carmen has her own room, too, but Ben and Cal--oh my gosh, you don't even know about Cal, do you? I'm tyring to think back...maybe you do. He was born when I was eleven.

It's kind of scary. I still don't want to grow up--but like I said--it seems to have been happening all along. I'm just not [i]ready.[/i] I'm even kinda scared. Part of me wants so badly to go back to the days when we played together in my old backyard, or Told Ben that your pet dog Emily was kissing him. Heh, I remember Emily. Is she still around? I hope so.

I'm seventeen. I have my driver's license. (You were there for the only times I've ever enjoyed driving--the day Mom gave us starbursts and we were eating them in the back, and we started pretending there were steering wheels on the backs of the front seats. I really hated driving for a while, but it's hard to get over the convenience...So I tolerate it. I only got my license about a month ago.

It has been a long time. I don't know any of our old friends anymore. Rosie and Amanda and Lindsay and Jessica M and Sierra and Sarah T-F. (It's been a long time since I've been known as Sara M...I've written out my full name since third grade, when I switched schools.)

You remember Ashley, don't you? I met her at Trinity, although I'd seen her in Sunday school. Yeah, we were best friend...or what passed for it...all through Trinity, until 8th grade. Then she went to Case, and I go to Lutheran. I still see her at Youth Group, sometimes. I never imagined our sweet goofy Ashley would be having problems...but she is. She's written me a couple notes, and they just floored me. I couldn't believe--Ashley....

On the other hand, my life is still perfect. I was kinda worried about Mom and Dad a few months ago--when we were looking for a new house. They seemed to fight a lot, and never to agree on anything. It really scared me...I felt like Mom was always trying to get me on her side. They wanted completely different kinds of houses, you see--and it wasn't like it was just some small disagreement. If we got a house one of them didn't like...well, everyy moment they were in it, they would be reminded. Somehow, there was a Miracle House that they both loved--I still don't know how it happened. But we live here, now.

And school is still going well. I'm still at the top of my class, I still hate it, and I still don't know how to stop caring. It hurts...I don't know how much of this you were around for, but you probably remember me having the same problem at Trinity. Sara Martin, answer machine. It [i]hurt.[/i] A lot. It's better now, in high school. There are more people around, and more people who understand things. So that's an up-side.

Yes--more people, which also means...more friends. I was convince and 8th grade graduation that I was never going to make anothe friend in my life. I have never been so happy to be wrong. There's a group at school--I call them my "drama people"--that I'm friends with. Most of them are seniors this year, and going to college in the fall...wow, I'm going to miss them. Wow. A lot.

And college--I don't know what to say. I've been getting brochures and stuff since before my sixteenth birthday. I'll be getting more, after scoring so well on my ACT... People ask me where I'm going, and I tell them I don't know. They ask what I want to be, and I tell them I don't know. Do I know? I don't even know that. There are a few things that I would like to do--but would I be good enough? Would I? And the answer, as always, is yes.

And the answer, as always, is No. I hate myself. You've never seen this side of me, it sort of...appeared...after I lost touch with you, and I'm sorry to dump it on you I'm a perfectionist. I have to do things perfectly, or not at all. It drives me nuts when I can't do things--I get upset, or start shaking, or just freeze and not react to anyone or anything--it's bad. And scary.

I get depressed, too. It looks so innocent, that word--isn't it funny? I'll be fine for weeks, or even months--and suddenly, for no good reason, something will hit, and I'll just snap. I hate everyone around me--I want to hate eveyrone around me. I want to be angry. The thing--the really terrible thing---is that I don't. I let some people get through, and the anger will melt away. I grab onto it, wanting desperately to be angry, furious, [i]anything[/i] for as long as possible. But it goes away. And sometimes all that's left is hurt. And sometimes there's nothing at all.

It's the nothing that really scares me. To go through days of life, not feeling anything, and not caring--except for that little demon of mine, whispering that I have to be perfect. I wish I could just not care. I think it would be the best feeling in the world, just to be free of it, and not have to be perfect.

The people I have told about it insist that I don't have to be perfect. No one expects perfection, they say. And they're right. Except me. And God, I guess...but he forgives.

The thing that is the worst is that I can't tell anyone about the way I feel. The pointless anger. Or the days that I am convinced that I don't exist, or the long minutes...that stretch into hours... when I dig my fingernails into my skin, trying to focus all my energy into four small points, and doing everything I can to keep from panicking and screaming and running [i]away.[/i] Not to anywhere. Just away.

But I was talking about college.

I've old a couple people. The ones I trust, and the ones that caught me off guard. I don't think I'll exist after high school. June 6th will come and go. I'll graduate. Summer will come, and I'll hang out with my friends for two months. They'll start to leave, heading to the places they're going....Detroit. Mequon. Seattle.

And what about me? I don't exist. I wonder if I'll die in a car crash, or if I'll just end up in the hospital, or if I really will just disappear off the face of the earth.

I guess...this is the reason I took the time to write you. I think I'm scared of the future, because I'm still hanging on so tightly to the past.

I've been thinking about you a lot, you know. We were little kids together...sometimes older, sometimes younger. I had a lot of fun with you. But it's time to start settling certain affairs, and you're one of them.

It's fine for little kids to have friends like you, but in the grown-up world, it doesn't seem to be looked upon too well. So I guess this is goodbye.

I don't know why I told you all that stuff. I really don't. I don't have that much attachment to you...you were a good friend, but it's hard to love someone you never see, and haven't heard from in over seven years. If there were a way, I think I still would.

Yes, I'm still a sentimental fool.

So I hope this letter finds you well. It isn't quite what I meant it to be, but letters rarely are, and I think I'll keep it the way it is.

I don't think you should expect to see me ever again. And I doubt I'll be writing you...I have other friends, now, and I'm trying to introduce myself to the world of real people. It's a rather unpredictable place. You'd probably like it. You always were the adventurous one.[/SIZE]
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[size=1]That was honestly Totally Brilliant [capitals intended. That's how good it was.] And it wasn't just because it was touching, but more because this reader could relate to everything that was said.

The fact that the friend was one of the Invisible was simply brilliant -- after all, what child hadn't had an invisible friend when they were younger? I did; Lisa.

The feelings; the fear, the sentimentality, the happiness and the worry. The acknowledgement of your friend at the end. It all combined at the end to be something more than just a letter. It was almost like this little piece of soul, set down for the world to see.

I loved it.[/size]
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Wow, I didn't know you could write stuff like this. Makes me kinda wonder what Stephen and Tara would think if they could see me now.

Tara: "Not bad, but I'm still smarter than you."
Stephen: "And what's with all the Dallas Cowboys stuff in your room? The Cowboys stink!"

[Does anime hand-behind-head thing] Uh, never mind.

Anyway, it was beautiful. I hope you don't really feel like that, though... then again, everyone does sometimes.
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[size=1]Thanks for posting, guys. I'm glad you liked it.

There are a lot of typos in there, I was just srot of typing free-form... Anyway. ^_^

Yeah, Devi, everyone feels like that sometimes.

I meant it to turn out quite differently.. I might...not redo, but do something similar, again. And try a little harder for what I expected it to be, heh.[/size]
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