Another Letter I'll Never Send (#2)

Dear *****,

It's been a while.  Years actually.  Every time I drive through your town though, I think of you and wonder where you are and what you're up to.
In a sea of bad ideas and worse people, you were good.  You were always good.  Good to me, good to be around, good to follow.  You were always good.
Some of my favorite memories have your name written all over them and my best years are the ones where we were close.  I'm not quite sure what happened to us.  College I guess.  It has a tendency to expand your world so wide that you lose touch with people, even the ones you love.
When my world fell apart, you were there for me and I probably never thanked you for that.  I've always been bad at saying thank you when someone's seen me vulnerable and stayed.
I remember sitting across from you on the beach and watching you text someone and I had this moment where I was acutely aware that you were in my life and I was happy.  It still makes me smile.  I still laugh about temporary tattoos of pop stars and hats that look suspiciously like UFOs.
I used to write you notes all the time, I'm sure it was annoying but it helped me feel like you were still there even when you weren't.  I kept the note you wrote back after I begged you and begged you to write me one.  I taped it in a scrapbook and I hope I always remember when you gave it to me via someone else because I was overjoyed.
Remember when I was so distracted by blue eyes across the yard, that I walked into a glass door?  You never let me live it down.  I swear sometimes I can still remember how you laugh, the way it sounds like a surprise to you every single time.  That sound is getting harder to remember though. I guess that's what time does.  It blurs the lines and changes the sounds.
I miss you.  I guess all I'm trying to say is that I miss you.  I miss you and I miss us and I can't tell you how grateful I am to have known you.  Who knows, maybe one day the stars will align and our paths will cross again.  I look forward to that day, even if it never comes.

Wished for Nightmares

People always say "be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it."
I wished, and I got, and all too soon, I regretted.
It's been months and the memory of it still makes me feel something twisted.
I want to scream at him to tell the truth.
I want to hide my face and forget him.
I want to sit in a quiet spot and whisper all these things to him and see how he reacts.
Because the memory of getting what I want is all consuming-like the vines that grow in Georgia.
It's out of place, but it's taking over.
It wraps itself so tight around my heart that I'm numb and covered in it.
It weaves in and out of my head until the ground beneath me is tinted green through the leaves.
It's been months but the memory has taken root in my chest and it winds itself around my rib-cage until I can't think straight and my breath feels shallow and painful.
And his name hurts like a thorn as it gets stuck in my throat.
I stopped wishing after him, after the wishes came true and turned into nightmares and now I feel like Sleeping Beauty awake in the castle but trapped by the thorns.