literature

A Letter to My Best Friend (Amuto)

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'I was the one who made you flush even brighter then, and who had to pinkie swear with you that we would just be friends, because you were so stubborn. Do you still remember? Well, I broke that promise long ago.'

What happens if you're my Cinderella, but I'm not your Prince Charming? Oh, screw that, I'm not a prince at all.

Inspired by Skylar Grey's Words.

A Letter to My Best Friend

Hey, Amu,

I didn't know what to say to you that night.

I was broken, not shell-shocked.

You were bitter, not broken.

"Nothing's permanent," You told me. "Nothing lasts."

You were lying on a hospital bed, attached to multiple tubes, coughing your lungs out.

I stared back at you. I remember so clearly I had wanted to cry, but I didn't. Instead, I took one of your pale hands in my trembling ones, and brushed my lips gently across the surface.

"I'll always be your best friend," I replied.

You shook her head at me, and repeated, "Nothing ever lasts. Everyone leaves me."

I tried to change your mind, tell you that you would indeed be okay, in spite of what the doctors have said. I tried to convince you that, if there was one thing that would last, I would. Your best friend would.

"No!" You all but screamed at me. "Everyone left me! Everyone has left me," You entwined her fingers together tightly. "Why?" You asked me softly, gazing into my eyes for the first time that night. "I'm dying, Ikuto."

"No, no, you're not," I told you, more to convince myself than anything. You were already more than certain you would not make it through the night.

"What do you know?" Your words were meant to be cutting, but you were so fragile it came out as a whisper. "I'm dying. I'm alone. No one is here."

Those words of yours sliced through me like shards of broken glass. I didn't reply you. Or maybe, I just didn't know what to say. How to say it.

That's why I'm writing this letter. It's my first, and last letter for you. I wrote it, because you're wrong. There is something that lasts. There is someone who was there; always there, for you. You were never meant to be alone.

I guess I should start by saying that I am in love with my best friend. I have considered whether it could be that I have strong feelings of liking or a need for companionship, but neither of these are the case. With this girl, I would do anything for her. I feel my heart beat a little faster when I see her and I seem to be blind to her flaws. I know that she isn't perfect, and I haven't put her up on a pedestal or built a false image of her, but I feel that she is perfect for me. Maybe it didn't work out because I'm not that perfect for her.

The problem is that I can't seem to distance myself from her. I know she'll never love me, but I'm usually okay with it. Sometimes, I just want to lean over and kiss her or hold her hand and never let go, but usually being her best friend leaves me content.

I was the one who met you when you were twelve. I was escaping life from my family, and you fell on me, literally. I would never have guessed that anyone, apart from myself, would have any business in an empty construction site. I was the one whom you landed on while I was taking a nap - I told you I was having a good dream too. Yeah, you and I didn't get off to a very good start.

I was the one who met you again five years later at a party. I was the one you talked with, offered a drink with, and whom you went home with, because you were too drunk. I was the one who gave up my bed and slept on the floor for you, the one that didn't lay a finger on you while you were asleep, and the one you called a pervert because you didn't believe that.

I was the one to make breakfast for you, and spoon-fed you blueberry pancakes, your favourite breakfast. I was the one whom you told, "I already have a boyfriend, so let's just be friends." I was the one who laughed, flicked your forehead, and told you that was so cliché. When you said you were serious, I was the one to chuckle and tell you I was irresistible, you would come back to me by yourself anyway. You flushed the brightest red I had ever seen on any girl, but I thought it was cute, so I told you.

I was the one who made you flush even brighter then, and who had to pinkie swear with you that we would just be friends, because you were so stubborn, and felt like you were cheating on your boyfriend if we didn't do this.

Do you still remember? Well, I broke that promise long ago.

I was the one who started our nightly meet-ups, because I would crawl onto your balcony window and sneak in your room. I was the one you told all your secrets to, if I haven't already noticed them myself; you had to put on a facade in front of everybody, including your boyfriend, because you had always been nervous and self-conscious. I was the one you could act normally in front of, your positive, blushing self.

I was the one who took you to see Twilight, because you couldn't let all your other friends know you were a secret fanatic for sappy romance stories. I was the one who sat through hours of all your movie marathons, refilled your never-ending supply of popcorn, told you the movie was "interesting", and let you cry on my shoulder when any of the main characters broke up. Sometimes, I wanted so badly just to lie next to you on the couch, wrapping my arms around you and just go to sleep. Just sleep in the most innocent of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and you had a boyfriend, I was hopelessly uninteresting and you were endlessly fascinating. So I just walked back to the guest room that was always reserved in your house for me, and fell asleep thinking that if we were to be described in terms of rain, I would be drizzle and you would be a typhoon.

I was the one to take care of you when your family was away, when you had caught a cold as you stood in the rain for more than an hour the other night, waiting for your boyfriend who'd stood you up on a date before I had found you. I was the one who laughed at your sneezes, because they had sounded more like the popping of balloons than a normal one. I was the one to sleepover at your house for two days straight, taking care of you, cooking, and cleaning the house.

I was the one to watch you run back to your boyfriend after you'd recovered, without a second glance.

I was the one whom you cheerily asked to quickly get a girlfriend so we could double date; the one whom you tried arrange blind dates for. The one who quickly kept gaining more cracks in his already damaged heart because you told him, "You're the best guy a girl could ever ask for; I'm so glad you're my best friend." The one who kept wondering till late at night, Was I no good for you? Why was fate pushing us apart then?

I was the one to teach you how to play the violin, because you'd always begged me to play for you, and I decided teaching you to play it yourself was the best way. I was the one to play my violin while you sang along to it. You didn't like your voice, but I had convinced you your singing was beautiful.

I was the one who laughed when you struggled with your problem sums, and afterwards, get hit by your pillow and given the silent treatment. I was the one who later helped you get your first A in "freakishly horrifying college" Math.

I was the one who took you to your parents' Christmas dinner party, the one you'd introduced them to, because your boyfriend had other plans. "Was too busy to come," was the actual quote. I was the one your mom mistook for a "handsome, young lover", and made your sister ask if we were going to get married, which caused your dad to escape into a toilet. I was the one your mom laughed and joked with about your boyfriend's hair and how it was probably smoother than most ladies' in town.

I was the one who laughed when you smiled, stayed the night listening to you when you cried, and the one to hold you in my arms when you realized your boyfriend cheated on you.

I was the one who went out to buy dozens of tissues so you wouldn't have to, shared tubs of our favourite chocolate ice cream with you, and held your hand. I was the one who gave you support, kissed your tears away, and finally pulled you back up, enough for you to return to your normal, everyday routine. "What they think doesn't matter," I told you. "All that matters is what I think, and I think you're pretty special."

That was true. You were simply Amu to me; gorgeously, uniquely Amu. You were perfect just the way you were, without that foolish, cool act of yours.

I became the best friend who helped you through all those other boys, through heartache, and still stood by you when your ex-boyfriend apologized and you decided you wanted him back. I even helped facilitate your first relationship after your break-up, with a guy friend of ours. When that relationship started to fall apart and you was more upset, I was the one to comfort you, all the while thinking how lucky he was to be your first kiss, to even take you to prom.

I became the man who realized how jealous he was of your blessed boyfriend who got to hold you close and yet still didn't realize how lucky he was; he had the world but he thought that he wanted more. I was the man who finally realized how much I truly loved you.

I was the man who stood by, dangling by my abandoned puppet strings; the one who had to choke back his three words when you smiled up brilliantly just for him.

I was the one who hugged you when you told me "the best news in the world", I was the one who cheered you on when you told your parents, the one smiled instead of breaking down when your mom asked me if I was okay with it in private.

The one who had a plastic smile frozen onto his face when he helped you plan your own wedding and made every arrangement perfect. Even though my favourite colour was a deep navy, yours was pink; so that was what the wedding's colour scheme would be. The one who told you that you looked beautiful in your wedding gown, the one who'd even picked it out for you. The one who added the finishing touch to your handmade wedding cake, the two tiny figures of a bride and groom.

I was the one to laugh with your husband at his bachelor party, to stop him from drinking too much because I knew you hated the smell of alcohol. The one who agreed when he called you merely "pretty". You weren't pretty; you were absolutely and utterly beautiful.

I was the man who you deemed to be the best man, the one who stood by and watched from the sidelines as your boyfriend became your husband. I watched until the days grew old as he said he loved you, and I had to swallow an ever-growing lump in my throat when you said you loved him too.

I was the one you grew distant from because you didn't need me anymore, the one who would drink until he forgot everything; you, and him. But I would show up at your doorstep from time to time with a small gift, just so I could see you smile and wave goodbye to me. "Just passing by," I became the man who said that so often I could see your husband start to become wary of me in time.

I was the first to congratulate you on your first baby boy; the one who had you on speed dial, and always pushes aside everything when your son needed a babysitter. I was also the one to help you pack up everything and watch you migrate to California because your husband didn't originate from Japan and disliked the country.

I was the one who was at the airport an hour early to watch you and your new family move out of my life. You didn't even touch me; not even a hug or kiss. You merely waved once at your best friend and stepped into the airplane, moving straight out of my life without a word.

I became the man who tried to forget you by using other girls as a substitute, but I always whispered your name in my sleep. I wish I could forget about you the way you forgot about me. For a long time, I tossed and turned in bed, wondering if maybe, just maybe, you were awake and thinking of me, too.

I was the first to race to the airport the next day when I heard there was an accident. The one who shoved everyone away and starting heaving piles of rubble aside just so I could find you. The one who held you in my arms and made sure you were breathing before racing to find the rest of your family.

The one who stayed up all night at the hospital to hear about your condition, the one who watched your husband and son take off as soon as they knew you wouldn't be able to make it. Some people just couldn't handle the pain, was what I told everyone.

I was the one who finally broke down in front of you when we received the results.

I am the man who told you I would stay with you until the end.

I am the man who will watch you go to a better place as I write this. Your pink hair spread out all around you as you sleep soundly, almost like an angel.

I am the man who will shake hands with many people; your friends, but strangers to me, at your funeral. The one whom they will pat on the back and say, "Pity, she was such a nice girl. Sorry about your best friend's loss." to.

I am the man who will stand by your side even when all the others have left, just to whisper three very special words and personally hand you your favourite flower of your favourite colour.

I am the man who will continue to do just that for every day of his life.

I am the man who will continue to love you until the end of his days.

Some things are permanent, Amu.

Not from the guy you know as your best friend, but as the guy who loves you unconditionally.

Yours forever,

Tsukiyomi Ikuto.

'For a long time, I tossed and turned in bed, wondering if maybe, just maybe, you were awake and thinking of me, too.'
An amuto one-shot. Also on my fanfiction account.
[link]

Hope you enjoy.
Anime: Shugo Chara
© 2012 - 2024 typicalnightmares
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Victuuri100's avatar

holy f*** this is good and sad