I wanted to begin this letter with something like the following lines: ‘To the woman I will cling to like a crazy monkey throughout my life, or maybe an octopus?’ I don’t know which one clings more strongly. But you get the idea. I have a flash of that image and I cannot help grin. I will probably enact this scene when you have to finally fly out of this country. And have no doubts the airport will drown in my tears.
I didn’t want this letter to be about the woes of old, but it would be silly to forget that we became friends because I couldn’t stop crying on my first day of college. Even if you have seen me shed many tears, I’ve never actually seen you cry. How weird is that? We’ve been friends since 2012 and I’ve never seen you shed tears. Not that I want to. In fact, I’m not even sure what I would do in such an instance. You’re the caretaker between us. I rant, you listen. I cry, you console. I crack lame jokes, you roll your eyes. I say incorrect and insensitive things, you correct me. You’ve been through a learning curve and now you’re helping so many that I swell with pride inside. I’m constantly afraid for you. I wish and hope nothing ever goes awry. I’m sure you know what I mean. When I thought to write this letter, I had these grand ideas in my mind about what to write but now I can only think of the simpler things of life. Going out for food in half hour breaks from work, clothes that fit you better, learning how to format academic papers, being perpetually broke, silly nicknames and baby I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight.
How do I find words to tell you what you mean to me? You’ve been the pillar I’ve inevitably leaned against in the face of storms. The constant battle to break out of the cycles of abuse, which is still ongoing, and I have an inkling that it will rage on for a while. For me, our relationship cannot be defined. It has transcended beyond what already exists. I do have a guilty confession to make. With all these amazing womxn in your life, and still more being added, I’ve felt these stupid pangs of jealousy of losing my place in your life. I don’t even know what that place is but I’m afraid you love these womxn more than me, which is why I term it a guilty confession. It is silly and dramatic but that’s me, so no worries there. I’ve found solace in how I believe there are parts of you that I know, that maybe not everyone knows and that is enough for me. There are parts of me that only you know of and that is the crux of us: two people who know too much and too deeply, who reverse their roles when the situation calls and us who can strip and bare our lives without any hesitation. I am proud of the woman you have become, I will stand behind you at every step you take in life and I will fight off all dragons for you if I can. Is this dramatic enough? I think I should have added a love confession and a proposal in here just to justify the nickname you’ve attached to me for so many years.
Hum TV (Froza)
p.s We’ll go get food very soon.