message from the past

Hey, it's Nov 28, 2004 right now, and I've decided to send you a letter in the far future. Your birthday is soon, and I don't think I'm going to make any attempt to contact you despite the heartstring-pulling sentiments that always got the best of me. You really did a number on me. I know you can and gladly will say the same thing, but I'm not sure you ever knew how much you hurt me. You made me feel bad for being personable. My life as it has been has made me live a certain way, free of quite a bit of social bullshit, able to talk to anyone regardless of race age creed whatever, and with you that was always a bad thing. You also took my insecurities and made me feel bad about them. My big mouth got me in trouble a few times with you, but you must know I'm like a dog whose bark is worse than it's bite. I tried to make you jealous to make you like me, and all it did was make you resent me. You never took me camping once this summer, when that's all I ever wanted to do. I loved you more that anybody ever. Our love was brilliant, and also the most painful thing I've ever willingly participated in. So happy birthday, si-ti-fan, one year late. I wonder if I still have the swimming trunks I bought for you. I wonder if you ever learned how to swim. nic