M--
You seem to think you know me pretty well, don't you?
You know me well enough so that when you pick on me, you know just where to stick the pins. Most of the time, it's amusing. Tonight, you crossed some landmines that nobody else would have dared touch.
I guess the reason your words stung is because there's truth in them, and the implications, although a little upsetting, really do show how well you've been paying attention...
I do care very deeply about you, and I cherish your friendship. I think of you fairly often, and worry that you're lonely, and consider bringing you flowers to brighten your apartment. I found a lovely old scrap in my apartment last night -- a remnant of one of our escapades -- and I thought of sending it to you so you'd get something interesting in your mailbox.
You said that thing tonight... You implied a zillion things in that one statement... I had no response, no defense... So I just said, "Hey!" And I'm pretty sure Chris, who was nearby, started singing, "hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over..." I wanted to pick up your ScaryKnife and slaughter everyone in sight. It only lasted a second, but you made me so angry. What made me angrier was that I was blushing.
You think you know me pretty well, enh? You think my life is never going to change, and I'm always going to be a satellite orbitting the same sun. You think I'm eternally 14. You're so cynical; you haven't any idea that I might be pretty happy right now. I don't even know whether or not you care.
I know you care about me. My letter is taped to your fridge. I know you care, and I know you think about me, and I know that if I ever needed you, I know your number by heart and could dial it collect. I just wish sometimes that you didn't always have to be such a bitch.
~H*
PS -- I did your dishes for you. Just like old times. Heh.