Novel & Cerita A Letter To My Best Friend

It’s Urgent! My thumb hovered over the screen of my phone, rereading the message and admiring her beautiful face. Confusion churned in my stomach. If it was her, what then? She’s my daughter’s best friend. If I go after her, that’d be me betraying Mirabel. But, if she wasn’t the one, why did every look from her feel like fire? I hit send, and the message whooshed away.

It is, right? Let: No, never stupid. It’s not stupid, nothing you say is stupid. It’s fine. I get it, I do. I feel safe within our letters too because I can tell you anything without being judged. I have a lot of friends but they have this image of me and I have to keep up appearances. I asked for the number because sometimes I don’t want to wait too long for your reply. If this will help, I promise not to stop sending the letters. I don’t have a shoebox but I keep yours in a box in my closet. I reread our letters sometimes. Lol. Now I sound cheesy.

But now, as the sun spilled into the room, I was left to grapple with the aftermath of rejection. My phone buzzed on the bedside table, pulling me from my thoughts. I reached for it, and a wave of dread washed over me as I saw the notifications lighting up the screen. Messages from friends, family, and—inevitably—Roy. I hesitated before opening the thread with his name, knowing what I would find. **Roy: I thought we had something special. What happened?* **Roy:** *I can’t believe you would do this to me.* **Roy:** *You’re nothing without me.*

It was a letter, written in the familiar scrawl of my late friend, Mary, her words a balm to my weary soul as I read them aloud to Meera. "My dearest Iris," the letter began, its words filled with love and longing. "I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you may be. I wanted to reach out to you one last time, to let you know how much you meant to me, and how grateful I am to have had you in my life."

We started off writing letters 20 years ago and you became a very important person in my life. Besides from my friends and my smoking hot 10 year old self I didn't have a true friend I couldn't. What I'm trying to say is that I hope the Spain heather actually pisses you off and you have to go to the Antarctic just to get rid of the burns. I miss you so much princess. So fucking much. You know where I am and I know where you are Love Max I hold the letter close to me just as I feel the sand behind me sink a little.

"I'm sorry too. I should have been honest. With you. With her." We didn't make plans to see each other. We didn't declare anything. But something shifted—a door opening, just a crack. Maybe, someday, we could be friends. Real friends. Without the mess. I wrote Ava another letter. Not the kind I'd left in her locker—desperate, pleading, full of excuses. But an honest one. The kind I'd never send. Dear Ava,

But just in case that something has happened to me, I’m writing this letter to say the words that I couldn’t say to you in person. For the past nine years, I’ve never tried to stop contacting you. Even when all the emails that I’d sent to you were returned to me, I’ve never stopped trying. You are my best friend. The closest thing that I had to a sister. Or is it just me who feels this way? Am I the one who has remained trapped in the past whilst you’ve already moved on? I have no idea. But it’s all over now.

I ran to the drawer where her letters were, opened it and picked up the letters. The first one that I picked was her resignation letter. I put it on the table and picked the second letter, the one she wrote to me. I tore the envelope hurriedly and brought out the letter Dear Lexi, How are you? I hope you are doing great. The last time that I asked you such a question was like a thousand years ago. That is what it feels like. Even though you consider me your enemy, I still consider you my best friend because you're my best friend and you will always be my best friend.

I said, a hint of pride in my voice as I glanced at the letters stacked neatly in the box. "Well, since you've mastered them all, why don't you read one to me?" he suggested, leaning in closer, his curiosity evident in his expression. "Which one should I read?" "Your favorite," he replied, a smile playing on his lips. I nodded and said softly, "Okay." I took a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing, "You wrote this letter on my birthday and it goes like this: Happy birthday, my forever. You're really special to me and I love you so much. You're my best friend, my favorite person, and my forever buddy.

“It’s not just me. It’s forty people who work under me. It’s my father’s name on the building.” “Then you should have thought about that before you put my best friend in our bed.” “That’s not fair.” “None of this is fair. I didn’t ask for any of it. I didn’t ask to be on a screen for a board of strangers this morning. I didn’t ask for my shop to get a note taped to the glass. You did that. Every step of it, you did that, and now you’re standing on my street asking me to fix it for you.”