You're only as sick as your secrets, but the truth shall set you free...

[Laz]

Dear dad: I do not know why you bailed on me when I was only 11, I always knew you did not care that much about me or life itself for that matter. I wonder how things would have been I you had not ..gone to a better place. You missed how I grew up and became who I am today. But I wanted to tell you that I am the man I am today thanks to you; I always try not to follow your steps so I do not end up like you. The story wont repeat itslef again.

[Salty]

Dear Nick: You're one of my best friends, and the longest one I've known. We used to always pretend we were brothers, always hang out, always tell each other secrets, and ever since I moved away 2 years ago, I kept telling you that I'd come back. But the truth is, I don't think I ever will. I keep telling you that I am because I don't want you to give up on me like everyone else has; I don't want you to forget me like they have. I hope some day I can say that 'I'm coming back' without feeling all the guilt.

Dear Moe: I don't know if you still hate me or whatever after I nearly killed you that day, but since we started talking again, etc, I think progress is building. I just got mad after what you did to my mom, and I really couldn't handle it. Anyway, hopefully someday we can build a better relationship, and talk more.

[Trag]

Dear Dad
It's cool that you don't drink as much but you still snort and that's not cool. Last week when you threw up and passed out and couldn't get me any supper I was really frustrated with you. Oh yah, and I still smoke pot and I probably won't stop just because you give me bullshit excuses. I know you smoke too.

Dear aj You're my brother and all, but you're a fucking baby. You're 21 and you live like a pig, and you've made this life for yourself. Quit acting like a tormented writer, you're silly obscure poetry is lame. Quit making situations happen to you that you want to, because I know you're just holding all this in so that when you're older you can write a book bitching about how tough your life was and all that nonsense. Fuck you, bro. I know how much you love to hear this, but with all sincerity you're a fucking disappointment to me, I looked up to you as a kid and you, like everyone else, let me down. I thought I could count on my brothers, but you suck.

Dear Zac I'll tell you what I told aj, bro, you're a disappointment too. You've become bitter and moody, quit smoking pot. You're one of the faggots who can't handle it.

Dear Trav You're my best friend and more of a brother than my actual brothers, but you need to grow up, start taking care of yourself and stop being such an angry bitch. Also, you need to quit WoW.

[Vandread]

Michael: Yes, I am calling you by name. Not "father," not "dad," not any term that would give the slight illusion of endearment to you or anyone else I'd say it to, lest I need to explain the only relation we have. You have done nothing to deserve any sort of affection from me.

You left Mom before I was even born because you weren't ready to be a father. Given your poor attempts to connect with me over the last several years, I'd say it's a fair wager that hasn't changed at all. Mom told me that when you never showed up that day at the park to meet me, your excuse was that you couldn't deal with an angry child. Frankly, my memory of then is hazy, but I recall no action from me that would have made you see me that way. Apathetic at the prospect of connecting with a man who, while half responsible for my existence, has had no direct hand in my life past conception, maybe, but never angry.

I guess you figured you had prepared yourself better for me however long ago it was you began to email me, but once again, you failed to remain consistent. You probably think that I'm not giving you a chance to get to know the son you more or less abandoned roughly nineteen years ago, but given all the emails I sent you that you never replied to, I have given you several. Communication requires two people, I do hope you realize this. If you are really trying to get to know me, you can't disappear for months at a time in the middle of a conversation, only to try again later. I had almost thought that you adding me to Facebook and emailing me after I graduated high school might have been a sign of change, but once again, you vanished. I even contacted you myself, granted it was for the sake of taking advantage of your health plan or whatever so things would be easier on Mom, yet you failed to jump on that opportunity to keep a conversation going. I can understand that work would keep you from replying immediately, but not for a month or more.

I will not go out of my way for you; I am not some child yearning for a father, desperate for his love and approval. I am not sorry that I am not more enthusiastic about you trying to get to know me after all this time because you have done so little for me to even fake being so. I like to think I've lived a very good life without you so far and, so there is no loss for me if things remain so. If you really want to know your son, you must face up to that reality, accept it and take what you have coming to you. I will give you the chance to do so, but I will not do the work that you need to to make that happen. The ball is in your court.



Rodney: You are arguably the only father figure I have ever had in my life; I almost referred to you as my dad numerous times when I was younger and Grandma Jo had even asked me to do that once before she died. However, standing where I am now and looking back, even among all the fun and good times we did have, I can only see disappointment. You have wronged my Mom and me more times than I care to count, mostly Mom. Do you even remember the reason we left you? You told us both to get out of your house. I don't honestly remember what finally cause you to oust us from our home, but it is obvious your temper tantrums finally peaked. Given as many times as you yelled at Mom or as often as we butted heads, it was only a matter of time.

If that wasn't enough reason to leave and not come back, shall I go over everything we have learned since then? I believe it was last year when Mom told me things that she had found out or been told over the last few years that had finally caused to to lose nearly every shred of respect or sympathy I may have once had for you. Tell me, just how many times did you cheat on Mom? Specifically, just how many women? It would be nice to know straight from you and get this over with, because we are still discovering new things in that field, even now. These weren't one night stands either, were they? No, you supported these countless mistresses of yours while Mom paid for nearly all of our living expenses. If I remember correctly, at least on of them had a son that you helped support as well. And what did you tell your friends at the bar about Mom and me? We weren't your "girlfriend and her son;" no, we were your "roommate and her kid who had nowhere else to live." I don't even know what to say to that. I'm dumbfounded. To make matters worse, you recently said that your affairs weren't a secret at all, as if that was to make it a lesser offense. No, that only made it worse because that means everyone knew while we were left in the dark. Mom had her suspicions, but she never had any proof. In fact, she told me about one time when Wayne, your old boss and father figure at the rodeo arena, was in a crying, drunken stupor in front of Mom and cried out to you, saying that you needed to do her right. At the time, she thought he was telling you to propose to her. That made sense; I mean, after all, you two had been together since before I was in kindergarten. Now that many of your skeletons are out of the closet, it's clear that he meant for you to stop going around behind her back and come clean. I can only imagine how many signs Mom was oblivious to, but it doesn't matter much now, does it?

Yet while you were out and about doing god knows what or at home giving us grief, Mom gave you infinite patience until you finally kicked us out. In case that refresher of the last few years didn't make this clear enough, we are not coming back. Stop begging Mom to come back to you; it's pathetic. She gave you so many chances and you wasted each and every one of them. You are the only one at fault here and you aren't making things any better. She's finally found someone who treats her right and I don't see things getting bad between them anytime soon, so you can stop hoping they will break up and she'll go back. Hell, she's even told me that if she and Eddie did somehow not work out, she'd still never go back to you. That says a lot; you just haven't been listening.

Also, if you ever get me alone and try to give me a highly awkward sob story about how much you miss us, how bad you feel and how badly you want us to be a family again, so help me god I will tell you all of this to your face. It was a mistake for me to go easy on you last time you pulled that shit; a mistake I don't intend to make again. In fact, consider this to be a warm up for such an event. You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you off that day, but I held back in hopes that what I had still said would have been enough. Clearly, I was wrong about that as Mom is still telling me about you talking to her friends about all this. It's ridiculous how you have been acting given your prior behavior. Don't misunderstand me, we still care about you as a friend and love your family, but we will never go back to being a family in the sense that you so desperately chase. Move on.

[stephaknee]

To You: I doubt I will ever meet someone who could make me feel so used, crazy, and lonely. I am still trying to fix things that you fucked up. And you know what? I lied. I did cheat on you that night.

[Roknar]

Dear Aimee: I forgive you for what you did, although at the time it made me completely lose confidence. However, I gained it back, and through that experience, probably became stronger.

[Enri]

To dad, so far I have only one regret and that is that I wasn't there for you like I should have been during the divorce. I'm sorry for complaining when I had to go visit and making it seem as if I was on mom's side when that is far from true. I always hate to think that you believed I hated you, and somehow blamed you for everything. More than anything I miss you and having you so close. I'm sorry for probably making you feel like shit and never telling you how I really felt about it all when you asked, or not calling often even when you told me that I was all you had left because Sha already faded who knows where. You're the greatest dad, I'm glad you had Xavier even though the family was shocked you had a baby at this time with Angie, but I'm glad you can move on with him and I'll be a good big sister.


I might actually write this all in a letter and give it to my dad when he drops me off.

[TerraFTW!]

Dear Sister: Remember the times when we were young living in the apartments? Having fun on the playground? Hmmmph. Those were the good days. Sis, you've changed since than. Ever since we moved to where I live now. You smoke pot, cigs, and hang out with kids That i hate. Fuck stoner faggots. I always wished you wouldn't do that shit. I first found out you did when you were 14. Everything has changed since then. You 18 now and I guess now you an adult. And btw ever since you got kicked outta high school and had to go to that other one, i've missed you so much. I love you sis. But im so dissapointed. Ill always be there. Love you.

[Antiquity]

Dear Dad: Things could've been different. I don't know how my life would've changed if you were here, for better or for worse but at least we'd know. You're gone now and I'm sorry to say I can't show much emotion for you. You were never there for me years after I was born and you never took the chance to visit and get to know me. Maybe I would've liked you or maybe just the opposite. I can't say I think highly of you by the way you left my mother before I even got the ability to know you. You didn't leave any pictures, videos, writings, you left nothing behind for me to know the type of man you were or what you thought. I've learned nothing about you. All you left me were questions like, "Where's my dad, mommy?" and "Why don't I have a dad?" Questions like that. Well now I don't ask things like that anymore but I do wonder why you left in the first place. I can imagine conflicts and the such but I want to know more. Not just "We didn't love each other" I want more of an explanation. I want to know why you couldn't be there to dance with me at the Daddy Daughter Dance.

But I guess I can say thank you. Thank you for making me realize things. If you hadn't I wouldn't have been able to grow up as I did. Yes, a typical spoiled brat at first but thanks to my grandmother and my mother raising me I've learned reasoning, responsibility, among other things. They've shown me I could grow up just fine without a father and I damn well did. Without you made me no different than any other kid with a father, just with an absence of one. It also made me realize I'm not the only one in the world without a father; there are others too. More losing their fathers or mothers everyday yet they still had the strength to make it through. Some not in straight directions but still conquered that fault. So at least I can say I've grown up to be a strong teenager with ups and downs just like anybody else. I'm going to learn how to drive, graduate from high school, go on to college, start a family and grow old without you. I'm sorry you'll miss out on everything I hope to become.

Dear Grandmother: It's been a while. I know you're no longer here physically but you're always on my mind and in my heart every single day. I can't go a day without thinking of you in some way. With all that's going on, I wish you could be here with us to see it. We've got our first black president. I'm going to learn how to drive. I'm two years away from graduating. My cousins have two new twin sisters. There's just so much going on that I wish you were here to see and be with us to experience with. Then again, what haven't you experienced? You had five grandchildren running around your house, playing with your piano, watching fireworks, rough housing with each other, being disobedient and just being a plain handful of love. Just going over to granddaddy's house and you not being there feels nearly empty even with his new friend moved in. Of anything that hasn't changed there, I'm glad your photo still hangs on the shelf in the den.

And of everything I've wanted to say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't cry when I walked into the room at your funeral, only cried when I left. For being the biggest brat when you came over to babysit. For not crying with the others when they mentioned you at the family reunion. Sorry I couldn't be as good as I am now. But I'd really like you to know that the way you lived has changed me. I'm not as selfish as I used to be. I help my mom out more and take responsibility for what goes on in the house. I listen to her everyday and hope to live wisely. I'll never forget you or your impact on me because you'll always be in my heart. I love you.

[∞]

Dear Darcy, while I write this, you can't even talk. You can't even read or even walk yet. Just over a year old, I wonder how long it'll be before you'd be able to not only read these words, but also to understand them, on top of also, if ever, finding where I wrote them.

Why you? Why write to you?

I guess it's because I don't need to really think about how you feel about what I write, because in a way, it also doesn't really concern you. If I wrote to anyone else, I'd have to wonder, 'What would they think of me writing this?', and that doesn't help, because this is about writing how I feel, and feelings that need be told should never, ever be held back by guilt or shame. Why not write to my dad, my mum, or some other person I actually know? Because I don't feel a need to tell them something, I've never had to pull my parents over or tell them anything that needs to be said, because there was never any of that. My relationships with them aren't perfect, but our entire life is about balancing our time and effort between an infinity of things.
Some things are better kept secret, some things you just want to keep a secret.

I guess this is also a little bit of therapy for me. I mean, I saw that psychiatrist a while ago, back when mum was with Ben and I was probably at one of the most confused moments of my life. When I found out I was going to be a brother, I saw him again, but only once, if I recall. I don't know what good he would have done if he had seen me again since then, but even now, when I'm probably at the most depressed if not least emotional time of my life, I'm also at the most stable I've been in years. I know how helpful friends can be, I know how painful they can be. When you have things to do, it becomes troublesome to hold together friendships. It goes both ways, and I rarely ever put in enough effort to maintain a fruitful friendship. That said, I cherish every friendship I do have, like you have no idea.

Writing this is kind of like me and my roleplaying. I've got a bajillion ideas in my head, all of them great, but only a select few make it into text. They're the ones I have the time and effort and patience and energy for. I think about it for weeks, yet when it comes down to it, so many things have to be lost, to be changed. When I thought about what I'd write here, I knew what I wanted to put down, but even now, I'm crapping on and adding things and changing things as I go. Like any writer really would.

When I found out I was going to be a brother, I felt a multitude of things, but at the time, and for several weeks, I could identify a single one of them. Later on, and even now still discovering them, I found out what some of those feelings were. One was a kind of selfishness. For all my life, even though Dad's had Leanne and her two kids and Mum's had your dad, I was always their one main concern. Always. And I knew that, and I was certain of that for all my life up to that point. Then mum dropped the bombshell, and it felt like I had been cut off at the knees. That foundation was now gone, or at least, the demomen were already setting up the explosives. Day by day they'd add more, until the moment you were pushed out, then, the whole thing would come down in one massive pile of rubble.

Needless to say, I didn't like it. I'm highly selfish. It's rare that I share unless I'd get something of some value in return. I don't like other people touching my stuff. I knew, even though you'd get your own toys and that I'm only at Mum's half the time, that I'd still lose something. My time with mum, especially in the following two years, would be cut into dramatically with her caring for you. It was certain, I mean, you are a boy and you are my brother - you know how I'm great with kids, despite what the members on the forums here joke about - you'd want to spend time with me, you'd want to play with my stuff, play alongside me. Damnit, I just didn't want that. There was jealousy.

But then, as the months went by, and the bits and pieces of therapy and thought happened, and Mum and Dad tried saying things to help, they really didn't. Mum said she loved me, and thought that I had turned out great, given what I had been through, and the quality of the parenting that she and Dad had provided. I couldn't believe Mum had just said that, criticised her own parenting. But then she went on. She knew the mistakes - ouch - she had made with me, and she'd keep those in mind when raising you. I don't think she had any idea how much that hurt when I heard it.

She knew what she had done wrong with me, and would do better with Darcy.

Wait, so now was I not only going to be no longer a single child, but now, you're going to make him better than me? I felt like an experiment, a stepping stone, at that moment. I was a fuck-up, and my Mum would use that as a lesson to make you less of a fuck-up. I know she was trying to help, but saying that didn't, in the least.

I even thought so far as to not want you to be born, my feelings stretched that far.

But wait - let me explain this. I was born when mum and dad were both around twenty-seven. I had a good forty or more years ahead of me to spend with them, both of them. Dad's recent increase in health means my time with him may have increased by another decade from the maximum. But mum, when she had you, was fourty three or so, and your dad, was in his fifties, and he was a smoker too. He ddn't smoke around mum when she was pregnant - thank God for that - and he rarely ever smokes when you're around. I think he should quit, I mean, smoking is senseless and it doesn't do anyone in the house a favour. But really, I can't see Daryl living past seventy. Mum, I have no idea, I don't really want to take a guess. The time you have wth your parents will be short, far too short, I'm certain. You will certainly have only just finished growing up when your dad dies - if he even chooses to stick around that long with you - and mum is probably up to twenty years later. I wanted to - in a way - save your from that pain. I don't think kids should have parents forty years older than them, I don't think it's fair on the kids, that's why.

But the worst thing now, probably because of those feelings and that hostility - my brain knows you're my brother, but my heart doesn't. To me, you just feel like another kid who's always at mum's house. I don't feel a strong connection to you like I should to a family member. And that sucks, that hurts like hell.

Well, that's it for now. I've forgotten and added and changed things since I started writing, but that's about what I wanted to say. When you were going to be born, I didn't know what to do. But in the end, I chose to support Mum, because she needed it the most. If she didn't have her own son's support... God knows what she might have done or felt. I just hope that I can end up supporting you in much the same way, and that mum really does learn from her 'mistakes' when raising me - Because I think there'd be hell to pay if she was going to have a second child, say all this, and have you turn out like me.

And for the love of God, even if I do improve and dig myself out of this social-less and emotionless ditch and do it big as an engineer or writer later on, don't turn out like me. It's not a fun way to live.

[Crimson Crashing]

Dear Dad: Whether I turned out to be the son you wanted or not, it doesn't matter anymore.
Because the truth is, I finally realized the truth about why you ran away from me.
It wasn't because my mother cheated. That's what you told me. You made me blame her, when you were at fault.
It's because you were to cowardice to stand up to the woman you love, and that you were sick of her shit.
So instead, you beat the shit out of her and left.
You pulled my mothers hair out in front of me very eyes.
So maybe I don't call every week.
Maybe a let a month go by.
Maybe it's been over a year...
But it doesn't matter, because even if I called you yesterday, I was still a piece of garbage because I don't call enough.
And you needed to constantly remind me of my mother, and how much of a spiteful wench she was.
So when I tried to kill myself, you called and let me know how much of a piece of shit I was.
Daddy's little boy...
I'm sorry i'm not the redneck boy that you wanted, but I am not sorry for who I am.
I don't like to watch you drink your life away, cursing my mothers name as you poison your liver every night.
Be a fucking man and admit that you didn't do enough.
She wanted more than trailer trash.
And I may not be your little boy.
But I am sure as hell no hers either.
You both can go fuck yourself's for all I care, neither of you did much for me besides teaching me that people can treat others like dog's and get away with it.

Dear Clare: I'm sorry I hurt you.
It was not my intention to fall the way I did for you. It was just supposed to be a summer fling.
Someone that I could talk to, to get over my last love.
Even though you were there for me, when she wasn't, I still couldn't bear the distance.
And night after night, I told you that fate would bring us together.
But truth be told, I never believed in fate.
I just didn't want you to go...
But it didn't work, and instead, I left you in the dark to fix your barely held together relationship that I helped destroy.
It's not like I didn't care, it's just that you are so far away, and I can't fly...

Dear Todd Daley: I don't know you.
I have never met you.
But I swear to god, if I do.
You will fucking die.
I will kill you.
Ans that's the way it is.
Your the reason the girl I love wakes up from nightmares, with scratches on her arms.
Your the reason she has marks on her body.
Your the reason why I curse my own name when I go to bed at night.
You broke her, and I can't even fix it. I promised I would fix everything. And I can't.
Instead of making love, it feels like terror is what I see in her eyes occasionally.
Because something I will do, will bring back a memory, but she is too god damn stubborn to tell me, to say to me that what I find the closest and most romantic thing a couple in love can do, is hurting her on the inside.
I hope you can't sleep at night you fucking pervert.

Dear Corey:As my bestfriend, I told you everything.
My fears, my hopes, my dreams...
I never told you one thing though...I wanted to be you.
No, not like you...I actually wanted to be Corey.
You were everything that I thought was cool.
You were my role-model, and you were my hero.
And you were just a boy a couple of months older than me.

So the day that I find out my girlfriend wasn't faithfull, I come to you.
And you tell me you don't know.
You don't know who she was with.
But it was you, you liar.
Liar.
It was you, and you couldn't even build up the courage to tell me.
You knew that you were caught, there was no way out of it.
I hope you looked deep into her eyes, and realized that I was dreaming about them at the same exact time.





Wow...I feel strange after that...And I feel a little good.....

[DJQuackQuack]

Dear Dad,
Most people say forgive and forget. I shall never do either in regards to what you have done. I was young at the time, around 8 or so, so I really have no idea of the specifics of what exactly you did or whatever drugs you were on. Regardless, you landed yourself 12 deserved years in prison, still in their to this day. Ah yes, enjoying your free meals? Making new friends? Getting an education, have a job. Oh, and I remember when you sent me the picture of your baseball team. How cute.

While you continued to send letters, begging for forgiveness, saying you were a fool, how now 'turned to God', and wished for us to return to normal before you left us, we suffered in the real world. While you lived in the past, we moved forward and dealt with the hardships you'll never know of. I grew up, I am not some little boy who wants his daddy anymore. Don't think we can return to the way things were. I hardly remember you, I was too young and you were gone most of the time. There is nothing to go back to, so wake up and realize the truth.

But above all, I can never forgive you for what you did to mom. You left her, after all she did for you. She has had two to three jobs in order to raise my older sister and I all these years, coming home just to clean and cook for us. She is the driving force in my life and without her I'd be nothing. Her sacrifices for me is what motivates me to do my best in everything, to get an education, to go to college, and to get a great career I know I'll love, all in order to make this strong and kind woman proud of me and to show her she didn't suffer for nothing.

So there you have it dad, you messed up big time. While you may regret losing a family, I will never regret losing a dad. I have met many fatherly figures in my life time, each treating me as their own son, but not once have I begged for the hole in my heart left by you to be refilled with another. I know not to dwell in the past and mourn over any losses. I always put my all in staying strong for mom and being as kind and optimistic and open-minded as I can for others. I am done with you, I no longer have a father. Don't expect to be a part of my life once you get out. I hold no grudge, no hatred, just refuse to let you back into a life you so readily cast aside. Good bye.



This does feel good. Thank you Bangcock, I owe ya.

[Luppi]

Dear:

I’m sorry. What else can I really say. Part of me still loves you but, I hate you so much. But I’m sorry I did what I did. Looking back, I can think of several different ways that would have been better than the one I chose when I told you to get out of my life. But I couldn’t see them then, and I suppose it’s useless now to think “oh I should’ve…” And… why the hell did you only tell me that once I told you I wanted you gone?! You know I wouldn’t have held it against you, and to be perfectly honest, I had already guessed! But still, I’m sorry. I don’t think I regret what I did, just how I did it. Because I really did love you, and frankly you didn’t give a damn about how I felt. Your words were, “I love you so much!” and I hate to break it to you, but actions really do speak louder than words. When I called you that night, crying because I really did think that I wanted to die, you were drunk and ‘had to go’ because you were out partying. Don’t think I didn’t hear you ’shushing’ those girls in the background. Do you know… that I sat in the tub for a full two hours with a razor blade pressed against my wrist that night? And then another time you had the gall to yell at me for being drunk when I called you just because I wanted to hear your voice. You hypocrite. Then… when I told you I didn’t want you calling or texting me anymore, that I wanted you out of my life, you got upset and asked what you had done. And I didn’t have the guts to tell you all the heartache you had given me. Still though, for the longest time, I still thought of you every single day. I still can’t believe I was so weak to break down and call you that one time, I had deluded myself into thinking that you weren’t the jerk that I had originally thought. And… you answered, and yelled at me for “breaking up with you” before asking again why I had told you to leave. When I told you that I loved you, you said, “I know” in such a cold voice. You said, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” and I waited. Foolishly, I waited. I suppose I can say that I’m lucky you were still such a jerk, so when that call finally came two days later, I had the sense not to answer. You were the only guy I ever shed tears over, and I shed so many; you broke my heart. And I don’t want you anymore.

[Riel]

Dear Nate:

You were never the type to sit there and wonder what you were going to be when you 'grew up'. You've always been the dreamer, thinking that you could invent Pokemon, that you could beocme a scientist, make video games, become an author. I want you to know that this doesn't change when you get older. No, you don't sit there and wonder, you sit there and dream and then worry about both fufilling that dream and what could happen if you don't.

You want to be a singer. And a guitarist. And a lyricist and an author and a poet and a comedian and an actor and a lobbyist for an organization like To Write Love on Her Arms. You want to get in shape, to be famous for all of these things. But you don't play the guitar in front of anyone, your words aren't even a dime a dozen; their worth is incalculable in the same way that 'zero' is.

You've been everything possible. Friend, best friend, enemy, acquaintance, boyfriend, lover. And you don't do a damn one of those things worth shit. Your back turns on friends because of a girlfriend, a shitty boyfriend because of a best friend, an awful enemy because you were a lover. Promises will come easily to you, and you'll try your best to keep them, believe me. But you've promised 'forever' multiple times, and not a damn time has it worked out.

I want you to know that you're good at hurting people. It's your talent, it seems. But, then, you also have a way with words and a voice that leads to honesty (your being able to read expressions and emotions like a newspaper article doesn't hurt, either) so that people will trust you with their problems. And problems they have, believe me. You're going to care about absolutely everyone even though you don't feel as if you really deserve any of them, and your heart has been bruised and beaten a million times.

You're not that good of a brother, either. You're closer to Ashley (I know, it's shocking) than you are to Andrew and Logan. You do things that you aren't proud of to them, both because you think they need it and because you can't think of an alternative. You aren't the best son, either; making your mother and father cry will become an easy feat.

But don't worry. Everyone will think you're funny, because if you're good at anything it's believing that tomorrow will be better. You are unrelentingly faithful in something greater, in the idea that everything will be okay. If you're good at anything, it's hiding how much you actually care. Half-smiles and smirks look the same as a full smile to those that aren't careful enough in their observation.

Oh, the tears will come though. You've killed the hearts of two amazing girls, and one of them has been dumb enough to give you a second chance. Your worthless words are good at winning hearts, but your actions speak so much louder. They hurt, they tear, they burn. You always offer a shoulder and an arm to cry on, though, so that's a plus.

Basically, you're a fucking (yes, that is a swear word) dual-faced and multi-faceted son of a bitch. People trust you and you can't understand why, they love you and you love them back, but always end up hurting them. You have all of this potential, and do nothing with it. I guess you aren't totally hopeless, though. Maybe you'll read this and learn from your mistakes.

My mistakes.

Sincerely (because Love, would be awkward),
Nate.

[scubasol]

Dear Christopher, I don't really know what to say. On July 7 you'll have been gone for one whole year but it still pains me that I don't know the exact time or exactly how you died. I remember writing in my diary that day and I think I put something like, "I like not writing here often, because the changes are easier to see" and it was kind of ironic or coincidental - one of the two - because that was the day you'd gone. I still don't know how I feel. I'm not going to dress this up and lie and tell you you're my hero because even though you're a brave man I have to be true to myself. Do I love you? I don't think so. I think towards the end, I stopped loving you because of all the arguments and the way you treated me like shit. Remember that girl who you made that stupid little story up with? The one who told you to tell everyone you'd slept with her? I think her name's Gemma, and you're stupid for thinking I'd believe you; I can see right through you. But this isn't about sex and I never wanted it to be about sex but that's what it turned into, didn't it? Trying to grasp onto some kind of concept that I loved you when all it was was fucking for the sake of being close and telling myself that sex was something couples in love did. That's all we used to do in the end. You'd come over for the weekend, we'd go out to a restaurant and get back and fuck and sleep. I hated it. I hate it now. I'll always hate it. In fact, when I think of you I feel a little bit sick. Some of the things you did, albeit trivial or unimportant, knocked me and I physically feel like throwing up now. So what's this twinge in my heart when I realise 'you are dead'? Pain, yes; it overwhelms me, yes, but is it just guilt or genuine love? I don't love you, though, do I? I did, but that stopped before you died. I mean, it was nice of you to try and get into the RAF but you're dumb so you didn't get in, and when you went back into the Army I knew you were going to die, I could feel it in my bones. And you did. Kind of anticipated it so it wasn't as shocking as I thought, but it was still surprising, to say the least. I did cry until my bones were dry and I still cry today, but it's the realisation that hurts and yet I don't regret sending that e-mail because nowhere did I say 'I love you' because that would hurt me now and it doesn't. Instead I asked for your forgiveness and, well, do I want it? Yes, I think, maybe. Forgive me in death because I feel stupid for all the things I said and did and thought; how embarassing, right? I'm embarassed. I wish I'd never lied one bit to you but I am always lying to one person or another because you know what? I am damn insecure and this shell I have is all that's keeping me in place like some thin film locking up a bout of disease. I'm happier with Mosè. I hope you understand.

Dear Jamie, I have been lying to you for the entire time I know you and I don't have the backbone to tell you because I have used it as an excuse for my shitty behaviour and if you find out, you'll not trust me and if there were a person I need in my life, it is you. You are my best friend a thousand times over and I love you, so I'm sorry.

Dear Mosè, I'm sorry for all the things I will probably do to you.

Dear Hannah, Stop.