+1

BONUS

Dear Eddy,

Hope you are sitting down. Hope you are happy with your life. Hope you are doing great. Hope your baby girl is doing amazing and is healthy. Hope Mary is perfectly fine.

This letter is not a thank you letter. It is an apology letter. And no matter how many times I say sorry and ask for forgiveness it is never enough. It will never be enough. You may forgive me, but I will never be able to forgive myself.

This letter will be long. I don't know when you will read this. In a few days after your wedding, or months or years, or maybe never. But if you are reading this, thanks.

And if you hate me after this, that is too, understandable. You might feel disgusted.

All those years ago, when Clari cheated on me, you were the first person on my mind. I just had to call you and tell you, but you were not in a mood to listen. Understandable, when you needed me, I didn't call you. But when I was in despair, I called you. You of course wouldn't like that, I know you.

I was stupid. I fell in the trap of love. I didn't want to.

You will find this weird, you will hate me. But I loved you. I had always loved you. But I never wanted to hurt you. It was never my intention. When I went to Juilliard, I tried forgetting how much I loved you. I knew you would never love me back the same way I did, so I distanced myself. I tried falling in love with someone else. I found Clari, but I never loved her like I did you. When she cheated, I knew I would never find someone else. To love. And that hurt. I called to tell you, apologise and finally speak. But that didn't turn out good.

Few years later I met that man, the one I thought was angelic. I told him about my life. I told him how much I loved you. He said he could make me forget. I believed him. I knew you found someone else. So I tried moving on, again. I did this time, but then he changed. He turned into a demon. We adopted our child, but he had become abusive. He hurt me, but when he tried hurting our daughter, I couldn't take it anymore. I filed for divorce, and we ended sometime afterwards. From that day on, I took care of my daughter alone. That plan failed too.

I was at the bakery, to buy a cake for my child's birthday. I saw you walk in. I wanted to speak, but I had seen your girlfriend and your friends, and decided not to. I saw you, heard you, heard about the news. So I stopped myself from ruining it. I went back to the hotel, to celebrate Winnie's birthday with the crew. I came out to find you proposing. I felt happy, for you. Because I knew she was the one whom you deserved. Not me.

I remember your birthday at the club, the first time when I saw you and Mary. I felt angry, I didn't wish you. But then I realised, if I never told you anything ever about my life, why should you? Why would you tell me that you found new friends, a girlfriend, or anything in general?

I accepted my faults and mistakes. I agreed that I had been the worst best-friend anyone could ever have. I had wasted both our times just guessing, never making a move. I tell everyone my motto is to just do it, but when it came to me, I ran away, I hid. I was scared.

I have been very bad to you. And for that I cannot be forgiven. But whenever you read this, will you please accept me once more as your friend?

Just once. I don't care when. In a few days, months, years or even on my deathbed. Just before I die, I want you as my friend.

Yes, we may never be that close like we were. But still I want something of a bond. A little friendship. I little acceptance.

For the longest time I've had sadness in me. I realised what I could have done way sooner. If only our significant others, egos and stupidity were not in the way. Now, there is nothing that can be done except acceptance and moving forward.

So Eddy, will you please become my friend once more?

If you agree, take the rose. And keep it forever. I know we will never have what we had, because I cut the string. A broken string can't be joint, it always has the knot.

I just want to have you back. I just want that.

I had promised to compose music for you every five years, I never broke that promise. Stapled to this letter you find all of them. I don't know if you play the violin anymore, but I know you can read music. I wrote these just for you.

I'm sorry. I love you. Forgive me.