Dear Amy,

I did not appreciate you posting a very horrible comment on my blog because you disliked my metaphors. Are we still in grade school?

But all kidding aside, Amy, you don't know me. You really don't. And you never got the chance and its something I regret. Because Chris speaks very highly of you. So I was always asking to hang out with you or Amanda. Or even one of Chris' friends. But I never got that chance. And I feel that if you got to know me, you wouldn't be so quick to judge. So, what do you think? Do you want to give it a shot?

Oh, the reason why I didn't want to accept your apology when you gave it on the phone with Chris was that I don't know you and you don't know me. What good will an apology do? I didn't know whether or not you even said it or if you meant it. And you didn't know if I would accept it. An apology is meaningless between people who don't know each other, don't you agree?

Dear Chris,

I never really expected to say goodbye to you. And I am totally angry at Deanna for calling you up and telling you to not talk to me anymore. I feel as if I would regret taking you out of my life because I always thought you'd be there in some fashion even if we weren't together. I thought our chemistry was great, how we clicked so well. And I still think you're an okay guy even if we don't necessarily agree on some things.

I never meant to put you on a guilt trip but you always said you wanted me to yell at you. Do you remember that? I really want to click on your name again and just resume talking to you. But I know I shouldn't. And I can't. Weird, huh? I seriously don't know where we stand. I don't know what I'll do if I'll see you again.

The one thing that really really bugs me is that how you can stay so calm and say everything you say and how I can't. How you can just say "Its for the best to not talk to each other because I'll just end up hurting you" and not show that you're sad or regretful of that. I mean, do you know how hard it is to just come to the realization that I might hate you? I don't want to. Of course I don't. Since you meant so much to me at once point.

You don't know how often I would sit there and wonder what you're doing. Which jokes you're laughing at. Who you're laughing with. How your day was. Whether or not you hated that one song as much as I did. I'd wonder what your plans were and whether or not they would ever include me again.

They say time heals all wounds. And taking some time off from each other would mend all wounds and everything. But, like Ben Folds said, time takes time too, you know.

I'll say it again. I really feel as if I am losing a good friend.

Dear Michael,

I don't know how I feel about you. I don't know what your story is. I can only assume. I can only speculate. I can only think you're a raging asshole. I can only hate you and feel weird whenever I picture you together with Chris. But none of its going to help.

You know, I before I met Chris, I actually thought you looked like a cool person. When I saw you at Common Ground meetings, I thought you looked interesting and I always wanted to go up to you and say hi. You're intelligent and quick. Good guy. And I really did try to give you a chance even after I assumed your intentions towards Chris. I really did.

But things aren't so good now. Chris has had one heck of a time defending you. If you didn't know that. He always had one thing or another, one reason why you did this or that. So, maybe you're not that bad.

However, with that being said, I don't know how or if I could forgive you. For your intentions, for your actions, for you being you. And many other things but I feel as if its best left unsaid or said in a private one-on-one conversation between us if need be.

Dear Deanna,

I am angry at you for telling Chris to stop talking to me. And I am even more angry at you for not making me stop talking to Chris. You know I wouldn't have stopped after you told me to. And of course, Chris didn't stop talking to me.

But I am grateful you're there. And I'm glad you're finally happy.

Dear Everyone else,

fuck you.