Dear Best Friend

Dear Best Friend,

I miss you. I miss you every day.

There's no escaping the fact that everything reminds me of you. And I wish you had told me about how you were hanging on to life by a singular string, crumbling inside every day. I wish I could've been there for you, to glue those pieces together and hug you till all the cracks disappeared. What a terrible friend – and person I was, to never have done anything. And to think, I was giving you space – that you would tell me if things got bad. Your radiant smile and bright eyes were sometimes the only things I looked forward to all day. And I silently watched that light slowly fade over the years. I knew your 'surprise sleepovers' were just to get away from your parents. I still recall the black bruises that painted your legs and long sleeves on hot summer days that concealed more bruises and burns.

I wish I had done something then.

Of course, I remember that day when you told me you felt sick and wanted to go home after our seventh round of UNO. I still remember thinking I’d call you later to check up on you as I went into the shower – and coming out to 20 missed calls.

I wish I had never let you leave.

Two hours later, I found myself in the ICU, staring at the fragile body of a dying girl. A bizarre look of tranquillity and calmness on your face, undisturbed by your weeping mother and cursing father. I stared as the machines started beeping faster, and medical staff rushed inside, and how they hooked you up to more wires, and then, the flat ECG line.

My father pulled me away and hugged me tightly while I stood there, stone-faced in disbelief. Everything slowed down, and my heart was in my head. My feet went numb, and I couldn't stand. It felt as though my heart had just been clawed out from my body and stabbed a thousand times.

You didn't even say goodbye.

There is no telling what went through your head when you called me, but I know I had to be there. I was supposed to be there for you. I'll never forgive myself for that.

Would things have been different if I'd answered the phone? I would have talked you out of it. We both know that. Maybe that's why you called.

There's nobody I blame but myself. I can't help but feel guilty for your absence. I wish you had taken me with you because this loneliness is too much to bear. I find myself thinking of you as I forgetfully dial your number. I get excited at the thought of sharing the tiniest things with you, but every single time it hits me all over again. No matter how bad things get, I'm determined to keep going for you.

Your loss has changed me a lot, May. I don't give up on things that easily. I appreciate everything I have a lot more than I would, just like you would tell me to do. I deserve to suffer my entire life with your loss and mourn your death for as long as I breathe. Maybe then I'll receive the closure I need.

Love,

Your Best Friend