My dearest friend,
You may not rember me, but I remember you. You sat behind me in English. 10th grade, remember? You never spoke a word to me, I didn't think you knew my name. Then one day you tapped my shoulder, you gave me a smile. I was shocked. You were "popular" I was not. You played sports, I only sang. I was labeled unimportant, an outcast. Then you spoke to me, asked for a pen. A little gesture, yet you would never guess the impact it had. You just went back to work.
Later that same day, I was cornered by some guys looking for someone to mess with. I guess I was an easy target. The poked me, called me vile names, knocked my books down. One pulled off my jacket, the one I never took off. The exposure of my arms brought me to tears, and I tried to get away. They simply laughed and pushed me around. Then you charged in, rember? You punched the biggest one square in the face. Somehow you made them leave. You were my hero. You picked up my books and turned to me. Before I could hide them, you saw my arms.
After that we talked. Granted it was not frequently, but it was enough for me. You never asked about my arms. The bruises, cuts, and welts were never mentioned. By the end of the year, we were best friends.
One summer night you walked by my house. Do you remember the shouts? I do. I saw you stop in front of the kitchen window. I'm sorry you had to see all that. The punches from my father, my constant cries of pain. You saw him throw things at my head. You couldn't take anymore and ran into the house. I was scared for you, I was sure father would get you too. But he just stood there. He watched as you carried me out of hell. Do you remeber? That's when we fell in love.
I remember when you proposed. I couldn't say yes for crying. You promised to keep me safe always. To love me unconditionally. And I went willingly. I never would have beleived it would come to this. Was it my nightmares? My stiffness and natural uneasiness? Was it my father's death? Was it me?
I have included your ring as well as my heart. I know it has been years, but you have to understand how hard it us to let go. Please remember me, and know I will always be here with open arms.
I love you as I always shall.
Yours forever,
" Gwenny"
p.s. I still have the pen