Hello,
Avery! I’m just going to start off by saying that I really don’t know how to
start this little letter. Believe me, I’m usually pretty good with all of this
emotional writing shit but I feel kind of nervous right now, so I’m just going
to treat this as a sort of English assignment, if that’s alright with you. I’m
sorry if this sounds awkward or whateves. It just makes me feel more
comfortable this way. I’ll be writing in chronological order (as well as I can,
I mean). This may actually become a biography of sorts. I am sorry if you read
anything you end up wishing you didn’t know.
You
know by now that I have a lot of issues. I have issues out the ass but you’ve
stood by through a lot without even really knowing it. I hate talking about
this, because I am still so fucking ashamed at how sensitive and how big of a
Piss Baby I am, but I’ve always been going through some sort of personal
crisis.
Growing
up as a first generation Mexican American, I had always felt very ashamed of
being one of the few colored kids in my classes. There were no Mexican role
models. I remember always having to make a point that I was a born citizen
here. I felt like the white kids would think I was stupid or less than them if
I was a “real Mexican”. I eventually grew out of that when I realized that I’m
just as much of an idiot as any white person around here.
I
didn’t exactly have the best male figures either. All I knew of men was that
every man other than my father was a dirty, filthy, Superior Than Thou sexual
predator (according to my mother). Everywhere I went, the same type of men
followed, and they proved to me that they were all the same as my mother had
always described. I was never allowed to be out of my mother’s sight, because
she didn’t want the same thing to happen to me as what happened to her as a
young woman. I was too young to know what any of that meant, but I knew that
every man was a villain and was to be feared. I had known way too many girls
that had gone through the same shit to be convinced that men were okay or to be
trusted.
There
is one specific moment that really defined my childhood. In my first grade
class, my teacher separated us students by gender. She had girls on one side of
the classroom and boys on the other. I wasn’t “weak enough” to be a girl, but I
wasn’t “mean enough” to be a boy. I cried and caused a huge episode. Eventually
I decided it was better to be mean than weak, so I started to cut my hair short
and push little girls around. It made me feel like a shitty person, so I
started to invest myself in books. It distracted me from my anger. I got
permission from my school guidance counselor to start using the faculty
one-toilet bathroom instead of the boys or girls bathrooms.
Later
on in my life, I met a girl who I could trust completely, but she wasn’t ready
to label herself as anything that would disappoint her family, which made me
even more ashamed of the body I was given. But then I met both Bradley and
Francis. I had never met such sweet and sensitive boys before them. All the
other boys were afraid to be musical or artistic or passionate about anything
other than what it deemed acceptable. One hated absolutely everything and was
pissed off at himself and the world around him. I saw myself in him and felt
like I wasn’t alone anymore. The other was the polar opposite—he loved
everything he ever came across, and only had goodness in his heart. I was
jealous of how carefree and enthusiastic he was about growing up and making
something of himself. Those two boys never once saw me as a girl, or a Mexican,
or anything I had struggled with growing up. They made me feel like I was just
a person and like I finally belonged.
One
of those friendships grew too important, and we ultimately crushed each other. He
was confused about things he felt ashamed of, like his sexuality and I hate
that I’ve turned him into a bad guy, because I did just as much shit as he did.
We no longer knew each other. Nothing ever happened. The other friendship grew
into something a bit more. But my disgust towards myself turned into something
more physical and I could feel myself growing bigger and more repulsing as each
day passed. I was struggling with an obsession which later became my good ‘ol
eating disorder that has not yet left me. As I let myself suffer through that,
He was going through his own problems with his family, and he began using
heavier substances to cope day by day. We decided it was better to get our shit
together before becoming friends again. He left and started traveling across
the country to rediscover his love for life, and I was left alone again.
I
will be honest, and you already know this, but I really didn’t like you at
first, kid. I don’t know if I’ve told you why. But I will now. You used to
really annoy me because, although I thought you were nice and a good person to
talk to, I remember you would constantly be talking about yourself. I know now
that you were just trying to get me to like you as a person or something? But
at the time, I thought you just had an ego.
I
feel sick writing this, but that made me really see you as a second Bradley. I
knew you were smart and special and a beautiful person with a shitty past, like
him, so I thought you’d treat me the way he did. I feel like I’ve been kind of
vague about Him, but long story short, he’s the kind of person that makes you
feel like you matter, and that they would always be there for you, but as soon
as shit turns sour, they’ve disappeared before you even notice. He taught me to never invest myself in
anybody because they’ll only turn your worst secrets and fears against you.
I
didn’t want to confide in you because I didn’t know you well enough. But you
were very open with me from the very beginning and I began to trust you as a
good friend. Although you were nice and very friendly with me, I didn’t like
the way you would talk about women at first. Honestly it really pissed me off
and I didn’t want to talk to you anymore because I thought you were a masochist
and an oversexed macho idiot just as Bradley eventually became to be.
You
started to act differently with me and I started to see you as more human than
before. You told me your weaknesses and I saw myself in you. Like both of the
boys before you, you made me feel like I belonged. But you are not like either
of them all. You are something entirely different to me. I treated them both
like medicine, but people cannot cure people. You and I were both going through
some pretty bad shit at the time we met each other. It almost felt like we were
holding each other’s hands through it. That’s how it still feels for me. I
learned that there is a difference between craving company and actually being
cared for and supported.
I
mean it every time I say that you are my best friend. I have given you pieces
of me that I have never given anybody before. I am still stumped at how a guy
from a different country taught me to trust and love again. I knew I loved you
when I decided to throw away my old journals. One of those journals was titled
‘You Cannot Die for this Boy” and another one was called “Bag of Bones”. I
wanted to be a better person for you to love me more, so I got rid of those old
journals to start new. No matter what anybody says or thinks, I have been
trying my hardest. I have been trying my hardest. I have been trying my
hardest.
I
was afraid that you would be disappointed in what you saw when you would first
meet me in person. I don’t know what it felt for you, but to me it felt like we
had known each other forever but hadn’t seen each other in a very long time. I
am happiest when you are happy, and I am hurt when you are hurt. People either
drop me or I cut them off, but I really can’t imagine what I would do without
you. I love you more than anything in the world, and you have been a better
friend to me than anybody I’ve ever met. It will always be hard for me to be
open with people, but I am learning that there are people to be trusted, and
you are one of them.
I
love your passion, your intelligence, your love, your sensitivity, your
strength, your family, your voice, your music taste, your respect, and your
weird sense of humor. I love how much my brother and sister love you. I loved
how it felt when Melissa told me “I don’t know if you noticed this or not, but
he really does love you the way you said he does”. This was a shitty year, but
it’s also been my best year because you’ve been there with me this whole time,
even from a thousand miles away. I am so glad you exist even if it’s so far
away from me.
You
are exactly my type.
Love,
Lua
* kissing emoji *
