Hi there. How’ve you been lately? We haven’t spoken in a long, long time. I don’t really know what happened, or what your reason for suddenly being on non-speaking terms with me was. But today when I was cleaning out my shed, I saw some of the things you had said to me.
Nice, friendly things that made me feel really good about myself, and about my work. I took your advice when you had given it, and gave you advice when you asked for it.
Sure, it took me a little while to respond – was that the reason? – but there was something happening to me at the time. If that’s the reason, I’m sorry.
Well, we’ve both grown up a bit from then, haven’t we? It’s been a few years. I had really wanted to become your friend, but you see, it’s hard for me to build up a trust.
Was that the reason?
Did I take longer than you’d have liked?  Were you angry that I hadn’t officially made you one of my friends right away? I’m sorry.
It’s hard for me to make friends, and so, that makes it even harder for me to lose them when I do make them. And it’s even harder if I hadn’t even been able to get to know them before I lose them.
When I saw that you were no longer there, I was shocked for a while. I didn’t know what I could’ve done or said, because I didn’t think I’d made you angry.
Or, maybe you decided that I wasn’t worth your time. Maybe you decided that you didn’t want a friend like me. When there are so many better friends in the world, who could blame you for abandoning me? It’s not like it’s the first time. The first time was with someone who had been closer than a sister to me.
So, yeah, I’m used to people not liking me. But, it’s harder when it’s someone who I’d really wanted to get to know. But, really, whatever I did…
I’m sorry.
Or is it too late to decide to apologize? It’s been two years after all. I’d thought about asking you when I’d first noticed, but I thought that I might be bothering you. Especially after you never responded to my advice. I thought that maybe I shouldn’t have given it in the first place, after you hadn’t even given a ‘thank you.’
But that advice couldn’t have been too late, right?
And whatever I did or said, I’m sorry.
Even if it is too late to apologize. Even if you never see this in your life.
I need to get it out.
I’m sorry.

Haha, we’ve both made a few accomplishments, huh? If you had stuck around for a little while longer, you’d have seen the beginning of RISK. And, maybe you’d have been able to give me some advice when I had been stuck. Maybe then I wouldn’t have stopped drawing it. I plan on restarting it, but I haven’t found the right inspiration. I wonder if these will give me that inspiration.
A kind of… lonely feel.
It’s hard for me to write unless I’m in a mood similar to the emotions I’m trying to write about. But, when I start writing here, the emotions come to me immediately after just thinking for it a little bit. Thank you. Thank you for making me feel melancholy enough to write like this.

Oh, I see.
I think…
Well, it…
It almost looks like…you’re quitting?
Why would you quit? After so short of a time? It said you hadn’t been on in around a week, and that you hadn’t done anything in around two months. The thought that you would quit saddens me. Please don’t. Please. Even though it’s more than likely that you’ll never, ever read this, please, hear me somehow. Don’t quit.

Ah, I see. Maybe you aren’t quitting. I took another look, and figured that I probably just assumed the worst. But, if you do think about quitting, don’t.
I’ve noticed that whenever I go onto your page, I get a quick chill. It pains me, really. I wish you hadn’t stopped talking to me.
If you did quit, your page would get a sad, empty feeling. Like my sisters’. For some reason, dead pages are sort of like bodies. To me, anyway. You can stare at them, and can only wonder, ‘if they were still here, what would they be doing now?’
Ah, well. It’s good to know that you’re not leaving. Even if you don’t know it, I’ll be watching over you.  So don’t quit, or I’ll step in and smack some sense into you! Haha. But, really, I will. So, please, don’t quit.

Well…This morning, or maybe it was late last night, it said you hadn’t been on for two weeks. Please get on soon. Your page already feels like ancient ruins to me. The foundations of a civilization that had been torn up before it had been it’s time. That’s what it feels like. The more I wander around in it, I wish that there could be more to it. It’s not scary, it just makes me wonder “what could have been?” like I said before.  I wonder how you would have improved, or changed.  
Anyway, if you’ve given up on us, good luck with whatever it is you’ve decided to do. If you’re just taking a break, then I wish you luck, as well as harsh friends and polite enemies. I would be honored to be in either group, but I don’t know if you would still want me to be.
I thought we were friends.
Did I really need to have sent you something to prove that?

I seem to be slowly losing hope that you’ll come back. I don’t know when your school might let out for summer, but mine has been out for a week, other than the regents. Of course, I haven’t really checked on your page in a while, (and by a while, I mean only a few days) so maybe you’ve been on while I wasn’t looking (but I doubt it).
My writing style seems different?
Yeah, I was reading some of Miss-Deathwish’s beautiful writings. I wish so greatly that I could write with such beautiful words, instead of something that can easily be known as an imperfect imitation.
Not even a good imitation at that.
Those writings make me want to try harder, and yet they mock me, and they say I’ll never be as good as she is. So natural. I have to force things out.
Maybe I should express my emotions better, instead of keeping them to myself.  
Would that really help?
I could try, and you could tell me.
I am sad.
Is there any other way to say it? There are.
Many.
And all are more beautiful than I could hope to grasp in my clumsy fingertips.
Damn.
I lost my train of thought.
I almost think something I could’ve been proud of was coming.
(Sigh)  I lose things so easily like that. A l l t h e t i m e.

You were on! Eighteen hours ago! Haha, so you did sneak on behind my back! The thought makes me so happy, yet so sad all at once.
It told me that you still hadn’t done anything, though. I almost think that would be a bad thing. After being off for two weeks, surely you had many messages from your friends? Or do you now think that you are too good for them? Everyone is below you now?
Why am I so
H o s t i l e all of a sudden?
Yes, her writing is still in my head.
Etched in my mind.
For some reason, I’m reminded of when my friends and I used to draw pictures in the dirt of the driveway with branches off the maple tree.
Etched.
My mind is dirt.
I believe it.
Why does the word believe have the word lie in it?
B E lie V E
But my mind is truly the equal of dirt.
Filthy and unrefined. The occasional stone, idea. A good one; sparkling, but definitely in need of some polishing? Even rarer.

I hope you don’t mind that I’m using a page from this in a contest thing. Well, it’s not really a contest, I just can’t think of a word that would describe what it really is. They may not use it anyway, so…
It took some time to get the nerve to send it. I had to close my eyes, look away, and make my arm twitch so I would hit the button.
If it is used in the book, you and I will be anonymously famous. If you read it, you’ll have no idea who it is. You won’t know who ‘you’ are, and you won’t know who ‘I’ am.
Which is perfectly okay with me.

I want to tell you something...
But I don't know what words to use.
And I don't know the name of the emotion that goes through my head when I see...