Dear [your name here],

Remember in high school, our freshman year, how we met and became inseparable?  Remember how you befriended me, despite the fact that your other friends didn't like me?  Remember how, for four years, we told each other everything and anything, shared the same thoughts, spent entire weekends together, got into trouble together, threw our first party together, and eventually lived together?  Do you remember that? 

Do you remember what happened?

Because I don't.  I don't remember how we fell apart from each other.  I don't remember why we stopped talking.  I don't remember why you suddenly decided I wasn't your best friend anymore, or why I wasn't worth your time.  I can't, for the life of me, remember when it happened.

We had our moments of shared mean-ness.  Times when we fought over stupid things, like boys, and times when we became jealous of whoever else we were hanging out with, instead of each other.  When we were both dating, we didn't make time for each other.  You didn't want to hang out anymore unless your boyfriend was with you, and you didn't want to hang out with me anymore because you used to like my boyfriend.  It all became such drama.

But we put it behind us.  I thought, anyway.  A lot of shit happened between us.  I felt like we would never have the same friendship again for a while, but somehow, we got through it.  Ever since I moved, though, I feel like you just don't care. 

I missed your birthday last month.  Last year I was actually in Michigan, so we got to spend it together.  But I have a feeling your birthday was bad this time around, and it makes me sad.  I've still got your present sitting in my living room.  Every time I want to send it out I have no money, and when I do have money, it goes to bills, so it's been sitting here since July.  It's a penguin backpack (because you love penguins) and I thought it would be funny to put some alcohol in it as well, since you live with your parents and they're always telling you you can't drink in the house.  So I was going to send you a surprise to hide from them.

I'm not so sure that's a good idea anymore, because a part of the rift between us became your drinking and medication habits.  I had forgotten up until this moment why we drifted apart. 

I know you think you know your body, and you think you know what's best for you, but sometimes it takes someone else's observation to get a hold on things.  I would have liked to have an intervention with you.  I can tell you right now back then, it would have worked.  I remember calling your mom one afternoon because you had been asleep for over 24 hours and I was afraid you had finally put yourself into a coma.  G came over and sat by your bed all day, because he was worried.  I tried to avoid dealing with it because I knew what was going on but you didn't want my help.  When I moved out we didn't talk for another five months.  I felt like you held it against me, for abandoning you.  I was already having problems I was dealing with, and I wanted help.  I couldn't watch you kill yourself slowly when I was feeling so hopeless myself. 

I miss you, though.  We had some really good times together.  Really good times together.  But I miss the old you.  I miss the you that didn't need to get fucked up to have fun.  The you that didn't want to take a million pills to make things interesting.  I miss the you that liked reading romance novels in my bedroom over a walkie-talkie to my brother and his friends.  I miss the you that liked to just go to the park and swing.  I miss the you that enjoyed just taking long drives with me.  I miss when we hung out, and you came out of your room. 

I hope that everything is fine for you.  I hope that you are well.  But I know you are not.  I will be coming home again in December, and I want to see you.  But I only want to see you if you are you, and sober.  Because I will not see you demoralize and make a fool of yourself in front of friends and family again.  I won't.

Sincerely,
Me