Letter #7: Your Sibling

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

Dear P,

There is exactly one year, two months and eighteen days between us. I worked this out many years ago, when you first started using “because I’m older than you” as a reason against me. Needless to say, I soon fought back with my (dodgy) maths skills to produce this figure of all that stands between us.

One year. Two months. Eighteen days. 

Yet so much more stands between us than such an insignificant amount of time.

We were often treated almost as twins when we were younger. Bundled together, so similar in appearance that even now we are the only two that can be picked out as relatives out of the three of us siblings. And the less said about those idiots in your school year who teased you, asking if I was your girlfriend when we were grumpily sent out shopping together, the better. I think I still bear some mental scars from the idea. 

I think I was about thirteen or fourteen when I realised that I had to be the one in charge. I won’t deny that I’m something of a control freak, but I never wanted to be the eldest – or act like it anyway. But that’s how it happened.

We were on the school bus. A usual soggy, frozen winter morning which is so typical of northern England from about October to March. Nothing unusual to speak of. I was sat about two thirds of the way down the bus (on the top deck, as all the cool kids were). The bus system was regimented and widely understood: the older you were the further back you could sit. Try and sit too far back, and you would be made to move. Every year saw an incremental shift a few rows back, until you reached the top of the school and could claim the back seat – that is, if you weren’t lucky enough to have your own car by that point. Which we weren’t.

But not you. From your first day you’d carved out a seat in the very first row, and refused to move. You sat, day after day, year after year, surrounded by the youngest, gobby kids. I couldn’t for the life of me understand it, didn’t know why you didn’t want to sit near the back with the kids your own age. “I like to be able see where we’re going,” you told me once in explanation. I still didn’t get it.

I always kept half an eye on you though. I knew, even back then, that I needed to. That you might one day need my help. 

On that day, the younger kids were being unusually obnoxious to you. They normally left you pretty much alone, once they realised that you would never rise to their baiting questions, choosing instead to stare stonily ahead out of the window. But they’d clearly run out of entertainment on that journey, as they’d taken to writing things on the steamed up window behind your head, and drawing long arrows to above your head. Nothing especially bad, just stupid eleven year old “wit”. Of course you were completely oblivious, lost in your book. 

But I was fuming. You had done nothing to provoke them, and yet they’d chosen to pick on you, my quiet, oblivious brother. My rage was palpable, with my friends pausing in their chatter to ask what was wrong. My eyes were fixed on the main culprit, a generally snot-nosed and arrogant brat, and before I knew it I was halfway down the bus, storming towards them. The kids turned to look at me curiously, sneeringly. I knew they thought nothing of me. And why would they, when I still looked about as young as they were with my short stature and rounded face? But their grins soon disappeared when I furiously rubbed away all of their scribbles, leaving the window clear.

“What the hell? Who do you think you are?” demanded the bratty ringleader, only to fall silent as I whipped around to stare them all down. A couple of the giggling girls actually shrunk back at the unabashed hate in my flushed face.

“He’s my brother, and if you dare do anything else to him you’ll have to answer to me, got it?”

[There may have been some foul language in there, which I’ve cleaned up a little...]

You turned around in your seat to stare up at me bemusedly when you heard the commotion. The entire front of the bus was silent as I turned on my heel and stormed back to my seat, swinging into it as I tried not to burst into tears. 

I’d never confronted anyone before. Ever. I was much more of a wallflower back then, and never did anything to rock the boat.

I think that was when I realised that I could be strong. That I could stand up for myself, and for those I cared about. And I have done so, many times since then.

If there’s anything I hate, it’s people picking on vulnerable people. And you were vulnerable, although you’d never admit it.

We really could not be more different, considering how close in age we are. And I know that I have caused you a lot of hurt as well as help, both intentionally and unintentionally. I’m not sure you’ve ever fully forgiven me for our messed up childhood, as you were passed about like a package in Pass the Parcel so mum and dad could stay with me in hospital while I was ill. I’m sure you still blame me for your lack of self-esteem from when I discovered the power of sarcasm, and my too-sharp retorts sometimes.

And that’s okay. Because I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself either.

But on the other hand, I’m not sure I can forgive you either, for some of the things you have said and done when you lash out in anger, in confusion, in fear. You have such a blinkered view of the world that you can only see the harm that people can do to you, and are blind to the harm you can cause yourself.

So really, all I can say to you is sorry. But also, that I will always have your back, just like that day on the bus so many years ago.

I really am so sorry.

-         -- Demi  xo.

My brother and I, aged about 3 and 2 respectively

Letter #6: Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad

A/N: Late, irrelevant and angry, I know. But this is all I can hash out right now. Bad language ahoy, by the way. Avoid if you wish.

~*~

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

-C.

I can’t be ‘the bigger person’ right now. Despite the fact that I always am. Despite the fact that I have been whenever something happens. Anything. I’m always the bigger person. I always make the sacrifice. I always remember. I always care. For anyone, not just you.

But I can’t be the bigger person right now. Because I am basically in the same place as I was last year. And I don’t want to be here. I’ve done this before, and I really, really don’t want to have to do this again.

When you said you wanted out of us I accepted that. Regardless of my nature, it’s not like I really had a choice. You’d already gone ahead without me. So I accepted this, and stood back, and let you sweep past me into the sunset with your new girl.

So how dare you think you can put me through more of this bullshit. How dare you flirt with me. How dare you want to text to me when your girlfriend of almost a fucking year is sleeping right beside you. How dare you remind me of what could have been. Of what should have been.

How dare you say we could have worked, when you were the one to end things.

Hindsight sure is a wonderful thing. Because I am a good person. And we have chemistry. And I have to forcibly stamp down on every damn butterfly that takes flight when I see you through the frosted panes of my front door. And maybe you’re right; maybe we could have worked.

But what gives you the right to jerk me around? Is it because you know I’ll go along with it? You know I only put up a half-hearted fight? Because you know that I will always care for you in some capacity, because you were the first boy to make me think I’d finally found It?

I am exactly where I was one year ago. Checking my phone constantly. Counting the days since I have heard from you. Thinking about you whenever my mind’s not already occupied. Of course, there are new additions. Feeling sick when I realise it’s been a year you’ve been with her. Wanting to smash something when I think of you two loved up in Rome, or wherever you’re going in the summer.

I don’t want to do this. And if you would let yourself admit it, you know what you’re doing is wrong.

I could handle being friends. I couldn’t handle flirtation and talk of the past. So why did you do it? When will you realise that you can’t keep chasing what you don’t have? Jobs, shifts, cars, girls – we are not toys to be traded in when you get bored!

So grow up and decide what the fuck you want. Until then, leave me alone. Because I was fine. I genuinely was. And now I’m not. And it’s your fucking fault.

-D.

Letter #5: Your Parents

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

Dear Mum & Dad,

I'm sure this will be a short letter because there is no real way to describe, in words at least, how much you both mean to me. Then again, I doubt I'd have much better luck in any other form of communication. Interpretative dance? Painting? Song? No chance.

Not only is the incredible bond I feel between us indescribable, it's also overwhelming. It's huge. If I were made up of puzzle pieces, each stamped with the name of a person who has shaped who I am today, I can guarentee your pieces would form the biggest part of me, by a long way.

Mum, I tell you everything. My friends find it bizarre, but the idea of keeping something from you makes me itch. We gossip, we chat nonsense, you keep me up to date with goings-on at home. I trust you more than anyone else on this earth, because I know that you know me better than anyone. You're my best friend, my advisor, my confidante, my amazing mother.

Dad, you are the person I aspire to be. It may seem lazy to aspire to be like someone so close to me... but I don't care. Because you would be an ideal role-model regardless. Through hard-work and determination (and a touch of control-freakishness which you bequeathed to me) you have carved out a life for yourself that is a world away from the situation you were born into. Yet you're always reminding me to have fun as well. To play as hard as I work, but not to be wasteful. And I know that no matter what problem or question that I have, you take the time to listen to me and give answering it a shot.

You balance each other perfectly, and have given me the stable, happy home life that many people dream of. A solid marriage of almost 25 years founded on mutual respect and love. I genuinely consider myself honoured to be the proud daughter of two such amazing people.

I love you both with all my heart, forever,

Your daughter xo.

Letter #4: Your Ex-bf/gf/crush

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

Dear C.,

You always say how sorry you are, and how bad you feel about what happened between us, whenever 'us' comes up. And I'm glad. Happy, even. And if that makes me malicious or vindictive, then I don't really care. Because you deserve to feel bad after what you did to me. You built me up, gave me confidence, made me feel like finally - finally - my time had come. That it was my turn to find someone special.

Only for you to trip me at that last hurdle, with summer finally in sight, and sent me limping off the track.

Admittedly, I have a part to play in it as well. My pedestal-installing, worshiping tendencies emerged, blowing all of the sweet, kind things that you did or said to me (and there were lots) up from normal behaviour to the kind of things that songs are sung about, pictures painted, movies made to capture.

[I really should try and reign in my imagination when it comes to boys. It's not the first time it has stirred trouble.]

But still... no amount of hero-worship or sheer infatuation (damn butterflies) could forgive your sheer... capriciousness towards me. I should have taken it - us - as nothing more than a summer fling, reminiscent of Sandy and Danny's ideal summer. And, like in Grease, when term started and I left for Uni, reality settled in; our summer romance was gone. That boy who I'd met - who made my knees weak and genuinely made me want to call up the Uni and tell them I was taking a gap year - wasn't there. I don't know what happened in the week I was in Italy at the end of summer, but that was it. I broke the spell. That enchantment that was so dependent on me and you being here, together, now. Even at Christmas, something was different... but I pushed that feeling aside to throw myself all-in for a second attempt.

Fool me once, shame on you

Fool me twice, shame on me

It's been seven months since I've seen you. Hard to believe it, but true. I still have your sad (and hungover) smile imprinted in my mind as I stumbled out the door, still dazed from our last kiss and wondering how I was now going to manage to drive. I think I even tripped down the steps. How embarrassing.

It's been six months that you've been with her instead. I remind myself of this when the length of time doesn't seem real. Six months is so concrete.

At the end of the day, I don't regret getting involved with you, or even how it played out, even if it could have ended a lot better. I learnt a lot about myself and what I need in a guy. I need to be able to depend on him, the way I never could on you.

So we'll be friends, since you're apparently oh-so desperate to be. But don't push your luck.

--D. xo

Letter #3 : Your Crush

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

Dear Tall, Skinny, Blond boys everywhere,

I know this letter is supposed to be directed to a singular person, but I couldn't help but bend the rules a little. Because (and I know my housemates will scoff at me when they read this) for once in my life, I am crush-less. It's a very strange feeling. I've become known for my intense crushes, which last for far longer than 'crushes' should probably last. All, inevitably, boys who either would never like me back or, in the latest case, simply don't like me enough. 

But I'm a sucker for romance. For idealism. For building up a person in my head, no matter how often I see their realities, and projecting my affection onto the image I have so carefully cultivated, rather than the flawed human being I should be.

(Does that make me shallow?)

It's a hard habit to break, one that I can't seem to. For every missed call or disappointing response, I'm there with an excuse. Oh, he's busy. Oh, he's just distracted. Oh, you shouldn't have bothered him. I'm willing to become the bad guy in my own eyes, just to cover up their mistakes. And I'm finally, finally sick of it.

I don't want to be the only one who tries. I don't want to carry on caring for someone who has lost interest - or worse, had none in the first place. I don't want to be the one you call only when you need something. 

(Sew your own damn buttons on.)

So for now, I'm crushless. Happy to admire strangers passing on the way to Uni and flirt a little in clubs, sure. But I don't have the energy to invest so much feeling in an idol right now.

So, Tall, Skinny, Blond boys of Nottingham, here's your challenge: make me believe you care. Until then, I'll be waiting patiently. I have Gossip Girl and Grey's Anatomy to keep me entertained.

Love, Demi xo

Letter #2 : The Last Person You Kissed

A/N: I realise that this letter is A) breaking the order and B) also a  week late, but I thought I'd write this one before anything changed. Pretty sure it'll be funnier this way ;)

~*~

30 LETTERS PROMPTS:
- Your Best Friend;
- Your Crush;
- Your Parents;
- Your Sibling (or closest relative);
- Your Dreams;
- A Stranger;
- Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush,
- Your Favorite Internet Friend;
- Someone You Wish You Could Meet;
- Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to;
- A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To;
- The Person You Hate the Most/Caused You a Lot of Pain;
- Someone You Wish Could Forgive You;
- The Person You Miss the Most;
- Someone You've Drifted Away From;
- Someone That's Not in Your State/Country;
- Someone From Your Childhood;
- The Person That You Wish You Could Be;
- Someone That Pesters Your Mind - Good or Bad;
- The One That Broke Your Heart the Hardest;
- Someone You Judged by Their First Impression;
- Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to;
- The Last Person You Kissed;
- The Person That Gave You Your Favorite Memory;
- The Person You Know That is Going Through the Worst of Times;
- The Last Person You Made a Pinky Promise to;
- The Friendliest Person You Knew For a Day;
- Someone That Changed Your Life;
- The Person That You Want to Tell Everything to, But Too Afraid to;
- Your Reflection in the Mirror.

~*~

My dear Pineapple,

What can I say? That you threw me off-guard? That I'd never in my wildest dreams anticipated that you'd ever go for me? That you were my first?

All that and more.

You're not my usual pick when I'm out, I'll be honest. I normally favour tall, blonde and skinny, and while you definitely have skinny sorted, your short stature and longer brown hair slipped unnoticed on my radar. But not for long.

Things had been quietly building for a while. Amourous nicknames. An attack from a certain genital-shaped egg-frier. Housemates wondering where all the noise is coming from, only to walk in and find us in bed (GASP) together. I should have seen it coming. But at the same time, I never thought you'd bridge that last gap. I guess that Dutch courage actually worked.

I didn't have a say in the matter, I'd like to point out. The music was thumping, Ocean was packed, and we were dancing small holes into the (disgusting) carpet. Out of nowhere, your hand snakes into vision and cups my chin (rather painfully so, might I add), until I'm facing you. Only that doesn't really register because you're kissing me.

And then it's over.

You revealed later that I was your first as well. I guess that's some small mercy. Good to know I wasn't the only one to lose my girl-kiss virginity.

Love, your Strawberry Cheesecake