Letter #1; A

 

To: A

From: Me


I don't know how to feel. They all tell me that you did it, but I don't know if I believe them. I believe in 'innocent until proven guilty,' and nothing you have ever done leads me to believe that they are telling the truth. But I think maybe I know deep down that you did something bad because I can't think of you anymore without feeling sick to my stomach.


And I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt like hell. Your sister was always a bitch and being friends with her were the worst seven years of my life, but I will admit that even at the age of ten I thought you were cool. I thought that maybe if I could put myself out there a little bit you might think I was cool too. Well I guess I'm screwed now.


Some days I forget that you ever did anything and I start yearning again, but then I'm snapped back to reality every time I hear your name. I don't know what you did, if anything, but it makes me wish I never thought of you, because then I wouldn't be feeling this way.


Fuck you.

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