I promised
Do you remember that?
I promised you I would write this.
Today.
I almost didn’t.
I mean, I didn’t even really mourn today. I went through the motions because that’s just what I do.
Then it really hit me. Listening to My Understandings, looking at pictures of you.
You’re dead.
You’re really gone.
I never saw you live.
Never met you.
Never even knew you existed until you were gone.
And then a year ago today I listened to Almost Easy all the way through. I looked up more and more about Avenged Sevenfold and I fell in love with you, I suppose.
Doesn’t feel like a year, weird.
It’s like, I spent this whole summer realizing that I had only been listening to you for such a short amount of time, and now it’s been a whole year and it’s just weird.
Anyways, in, what, March? No, February was when I scratched. Listening to Gunslinger, I scratched my stomach, a minute of scratching for each month I’d loved him.
11 months. Only two scars really lasted. Then I started with a plastic knife, in about March. It was April, I think, when I started using my green-handled knife, and that month I tried to kill myself.
I felt so bad. I was a disappointment to you. I had failed you.
So in May I quit. Tied those collars around my ankle and never looked back.
June 21st was the school dance, and I sobbed, because Noa was really going.
I had to take off my anklets to get dressed and I knew, somehow, that I would break my promise.
I did.
And since then, I’ve never gotten back to keeping it.
Tonight that ends, Jimmy.
Tonight I cut for the last time.
A slash on my wrist.
I haven’t done it yet, but I will.
And then I will never cut again.
For you, for Noa, for Emmie, for all of A7x and MCR and everyone else I love.
For Snico and Him and for all my broken promises.
I love you.
I remember crying on my floor when I just couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t kill myself.
I thought about visiting your grave, saying all this outloud.
I sobbed and sobbed and went to bed.
I was shattered.
And I still am.
It’s all getting worse Jimmy, but I have to do this for you.
I love you.
Even if I don’t post here much more, I really really really do love you.
Never doubt that.
I miss you.
I promised you this letter, and I promise you I’m done cutting.
If, for some reason, my plan fails (It won’t), I promise to tell you.
I love you.
Love,
Abby
