Dear Emily

Warning: story contains strong language and depiction of suicide

Dear Emily,

I'm sitting on our favorite spot in the beach, I'm watching the sunset just like we used to every Sunday evening after you bawl your eyes whenever you feel shit, which I always thought was weird because who cries every Sunday like its some type of holiday. Its whatever though, I understand how you must have felt and why you needed it because I'm doing it too,without you. The sand looks whiter than usual today, the air smells different without you and the comfort from my feet in the sand is the only thing stopping me from going ballistic.

I'm closing my eyes trying to remember how you smelt like, how you felt like but most of all I want to remember how you look like but I can't. I remember the last thing I said to you last summer when we were having another session of 'watch Emily bawl', you said you were ready to do it, you told me you would but I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it, so I hugged you. My eyes were all teary and I could feel my heart beating fast and even though you were the one that said that you wanted to kill yourself, instead of me making you feel warmth, you did that for me. I wish I could remember how that felt like, how beautiful you were at that moment is all I could wish I remembered right now.

Its pathetic. I would never hear that voice again, would never remember how your lips felt aside of the way it tasted because everytime we kissed it was like I could taste ten seasons. That's what you did Emily. You made me taste ten seasons. I wish I told you that, maybe it would have been a reason not to... Besides there was something I wanted to say the last time we sat here. I wanted to tell you about how Marley felt shit sorry for pulling that prank on you. He said he felt mad shitty about it and couldn't say sorry to your face, so I had to do it for him. It was like you said, he was a pussy begging for your attention but in the end he was a good pussy. Lol...that doesn't sound right. I wonder how he feels now,definitely not as shit as I feel but I wonder how he's doing maybe I should visit him some time, you know cuss him out and put all my pent up frustrations on him like some bitch then feel bad about it or maybe i'll play that empath game you always did.

Like I said, I'm sitting on our spot, smoking that mentholated cigarette you know I fucking adore, its reminding me of the first time you took a cigarette out of my mouth,took a puff then stomped on the poor cigarette afterwards. I remember thinking "shit that's so hot" and blushing like crazy, I wish I remember the way you looked, so that's why I want to ask you why Emily. Why you told me to call you at 8:53 pm, walk to my window opposite yours. You smiled at me, you looked happy Emily and I was too, until you showed me your half bled wrists. You said I shouldn't move because it would make you happy. Your breath was so brittle that I could feel how much it hurt to talk to me. I wanted to move, wanted to end the call and call 911 or your fucking parents but I couldn't because you showed me that gun your pop had hidden in his room, you pointed it to your head and said if I moved, you'll make it faster.

I was finally bawling like you used to, I kept begging you but you said I should do this for you, one last thing before you go. One last thing before I never see you again,one last thing before I won't remember your face. It felt like it was more than torture Emily. I couldn't even attend your burial because I couldn't look at your mother's face. I keep thinking how much she'll hate me if she found out what happened. I WATCHED YOU DIE EMILY and I'm going to be ruined because of that. That's why I erased your face Emily because whenever I thought of you I would see that smile, that fucked up smile you had while I watched you die. The craziest part was when I found out the gun was empty. It didn't have a single bullet Emily so all I had to do was call 911. That's all I had to do.

Fuck Emily, it's not fucking Romeo and Juliet. Just fucking fuck Emily...Fuck. My head is so messed up, I want to scream, I want to hurt everyone, I want to hurt you the way you did even though I would never do it. I don't know how to feel, I should have done more. I could have done more but I didn't and I hate myself. I feel like a coward Emily. I feel useless and angry. I want it to stop to Emily but I can't pull what you did, I'm too much of a coward for that.

I just want to see your face one more time, I want to tell you I love you a million times, I want to feel you Emily, I want to kiss you and your tears away, I want to smile with you one more fucking time . I want this to be a shit dream or a big prank as revenge for eating all your candy when we were in the sixth grade or the time I had sex with Bradley because I was still confused about my feelings about you, please just tell me its a prank, I wouldn't be mad I promise, I promise I would say fuck it and just kiss the shit out of you, I would say you are a fucking genius and that we should sit right here and have another session of 'watch Emily bawl'. I just want to love you one more time Emily, one more time.

I love you more than the tide loves the ocean, or the night loves the moons and stars more than anything Emily, more than anything.

Please hug me in my dreams tonight. I really need it.

Love

Your lonely friend.