June 6: To L

Dear L,
      I almost jumped today, but I guess you wouldn't really know or care. That seems impossible to comprehend, since a mere 9 months ago you were by my side at the hospital, sharing your praise in regards to my choice to commit myself again. You were by my side through it all...until you chose to walk away.
     I had this dream the other night, so vivid, so real I could have sworn when I touched your face it was really you, really me. I thought I'd forgotten, or at least grown comfortable with this new arrangement...but that dream brought all of my emotions rushing back, with no place for the crashing waves to seek shelter. Drowning in my emotions, my heart screams for you, dear friend...but you're still simply gone.
    I've made a new friend, she's amazing, just like you. But the desolation left in my heart after your exit bleeds in fear, terrified to latch on and connect, certain that it's only a matter of time before history repeats itself, just like it did with you, like it did with the others before: Laura and Amber, and Callie, and Brandi, and Jules...and the ones that simply faded like Lisa and Rach, like Lynn, like Sammie, like Martin, like Sam, like Joey, like Jen and Robert too. I can still remember them, all the way back to kindergarten...all those friends that ripped themselves from my lives, or let themselves fade away.
     The reality is though, it's never them, it's me. It's just like you said: I am broken, I'm toxic, it's true. I'm incapable of anything real and sustainable, I can never be what a true friend should be.
     You said that you are still here, still cheering me on, hoping for progress and healing. Somehow, though, I'm not really sure that's true. If you cared enough about me, you'd be checking in I'd think. In the dream, you came looking, seeking confirmation that I am okay. You knew about my job loss (though I guess in reality you would), but wanted to hear what happened and if I was okay. But that was all the dream world. The reality is that you haven't bothered to find out if I'm even breathing, radio silence from you since the letter and a polite "fuck off" in March when I offered we try just catching up over lunch.
     Regardless of the messed up feelings, the questions regarding your ass and my desires for it, I'm still a human, still a person with emotions and a heart...a heart which you've broken to a point that I don't know if it can ever be salvaged or repaired. A heart that is terrified of trusting again, a heart that is in crisis but knows that the weight of the crisis may cost this new friendship, the marriage, and more. But is that blood going to be on your hands if I jump or I hang or I stab? Or is that merely all on me? A monstrous ending to a monstrous girl, a girl who was incapable of loving herself or anyone really ever loving her. A girl who that's all she ever wanted: someone to help hold a heart that was too big, a heart that feels too much, a heart that's constantly being broken.

I miss you,
Megan