A Woman Writes A Letter

I see your eyes. Laughing eyes, eyes that used to light up around me.


I remember when we met. We were nothing but a couple of teenage nobodies with big dreams... well, maybe not teenage, but the word fits in a poetic way, and you were always a stickler for poetry.

When we met we were at one of those little beatnik coffee shops, and listening to a drolling poet through the smoke.

I had been with my date, and you were in the shadows alone.

I remember feeling you watching me, and like any 20 year old girl, I silently, secretly wanted to capture your attention and keep it.

When my boyfriend went to go talk to some friends you swooped in at once.

" I'm Dean." You said, leaning over the table. " Um, I'm Lily..." I said, a little flustered by your boldness.

You sat in the empty chair, and took a long drag from your cigarette.

" You don't look like the type to hang here." You said, with a slight smirk. " I'm.. I'm not." I said, with a sigh," I'm here with my... with a friend."

For about 3 months we had a relationship, but, alas, it ended when you left to go to war.

I cried for weeks, cried until tears just wouldn't come.

Years later you came back to town. You claimed you had seen God, and the start of the end of the world.

They'd sent you over to Vietnam, and you had been captured and tortured.

You'd lost your mind, and the smallest things set you into rages.

I remember you had nowhere to go, and drifted in and out of shelters.

One time when I had my children out you came up to me.

" How many tears does it take?" You said, clinging to my arm," I've been to Hell, lady, and we're all gone. Gone. Dead,"

You looked so sad.

I tucked a 20 dollar bill in your breast pocket, and sent you off with ind words.

A few years later you were locked up in one of those horrible asylums.

There were whispers you'd tried to hang yourself in the town square.

I went to see you the day you turned 47.

To my surprise you weren't ranting and raving, but sobbing softly.

" Dean?" I said softly, tapping your shoulder. You jumped, and looked up at me. " Lily?" You said, your eyes wide. I nodded.

You stood and tears gleamed in your eyes as you hugged me.

" How've you been, Dean?" I said, choking on my tears. You nodded. " I'm okay. Okay." You said.

We talked for awhile, but then you began to sob again, and a person came and took you away.

I think that was the hardest day of my life.

You were always so strong... like a brick wall, but I guess even walls must come down.

Last Monday I found out you had died.

From what I heard you had been strapped down to keep you from hurting yourself, and ended up chewing your tongue and bleeding to death.

I was crushed.

I wasn't in love with you anymore, but you had become my friend.

I had went every weekend to see you, and we became wonderful friends.

I among the small amount of worthless family you had will go to your funeral tomorrow, and I wanted to write this letter to bury with you. Maybe someday you'll read it in another life, and find out how much I cared about you.

I've lost parents, and a husband, but the hardest was losing you, my best friend.


-
Your loving friend,
Lily