I could go on telling you about the next three years, but come on, we've all heard about that. I must say though, I wouldn't trade those three years for the world. Anyways, onto graduation. Let's see...you really helped me around that time. With the whole Volchok thing...I really needed someone's trust and help. You didn't even ask what the deal with him was...you just knew that I needed someone and you were there. And when you received that letter from your dad...I actually was kind of sad that you wouldn't be coming to Berkeley with me that fall. I knew you had to go though, so I let you.
When they called your name at the graduation ceremony...I remember feeling very proud of you. You had done it. You overcame all your drinking and problems and graduated. There was a smile on my face and everyone thought it was because I had graduated. That wasn't the case though. I was just so happy that you had done it, you had succeded. That's what always mattered to me. YOU. YOU were the one that I wanted to protect. YOU were the one that I wanted to be safe, to be happy, to be okay. It was always YOU and when YOU were taken away...I was lost.
When Seth and Summer left the model home, I knew it was time for us to talk. You apologized for everything, and at the time...I didn't know how to tell you that I felt it was all my fault. I mean...I was the one who refused to talk to you, the one that was so stubborn and didn't try to understand what you were going through, the one that broke up with you. But here you were...apologizing for all the craziness. And we both agreed, we agreed, that we might not be over...that there was another chance for us to be together again. But I guess soon that would be ripped away huh?
You died in my arms. In MY arms. I was the one who held you, who heard you, who cried when you closed your eyes. I was the one who the paramedics had to fight to take you away from me. I was the one who called everyone and told them the news, that you'd never come home again. Kirsten was the calmest, even though I knew it was killing her inside. Your mom...she screamed and cried and fought and refused to believe that you were dead. They showed her the body though, and she spent at least an hour straight crying by your side until Neil escorted her out of the room. Then, I had stared at your body and held your hand and let myself believe that soon you'd wake up.
But you never did, and I left. I worked with your mom and we tried to find Volchok...to kill him. I wanted him to feel the pain that you'd gone through, but soon realized that he was already going through it by just living. That was enough.
I went out with Taylor Townsend. I know, you think that's weird...but I needed someone that was the complete opposite as you at the time. I needed someone that could make me forget, and Taylor, I guess did just that. I told her I loved her...but don't take it personally. I think, I did kind of love her, but never the way I loved...or love...you. There was an earthquake and the Cohen house got destroyed. Me and Taylor...we ended up breaking up. We kind of sort of made up later on in the year, but not really.
I moved on...went to Berkeley, tried to live my life the way it was supposed to be. I made some new friends, dated some girls, but nobody really came close to you. Seth and Summer got married, and me and Taylor sort of got back together at the ceremony. We soon broke up again though. I couldn't see my life with Taylor, and even though I had feelings for her...I knew that there had to be someone else out there.
I went back to school, and graduated. I became an architect...big surprise there. I went about my life, kind of alone, but happy and content. Then, at a Newport party(I decided to move there again) I met my future wife, Amy. She was the person I least expected to marry. She was sort of short, had black hair, black eyes...was already married. Yeah, I know what you're thinking...oh no, Ryan had an affair, but that isn't the case. She was going through a divorce...even though she was only twenty six. Her husband had been having an affair, stuff like that. We ended up talking...and she gave me her number.
Our first date was pretty simple. We went to the crab shack and ate, then went to watch a movie. It wasn't too fancy...but I hate fancy so I guess that works. Anyways, soon we were dating...and then we moved in together...and then I proposed. When I did it, I had been really nervous and everything...just like the first time I asked you out so long ago. She said yes, of course, and we were happy. We planned a wedding with Kirsten and her mom and when we got married...it was a great day.
She got pregnant not too long after the honeymoon and we had a boy named Nate. We ended up having another child, a girl this time named, Aricca. We have a nice life, a nice family, a nice time. Why am I writing to you now you may ask? I mean, I'm thirty five, happily married, have two kids, a dog believe it or not...a nice house, nice job, nice happy life. But something's missing, and I finally know what.
I said goodbye a long time ago to you...after I read your letter that you'd sent to me. But saying goodbye doesn't mean forgetting. Saying goodbye is just merely saying, goodbye. It doesn't mean anything...not in this case. I never got over you, and I'm beginning to learn I never will. I'll never forget the way your eyes sparkled whenever you saw me, or how many freckles were on your face, or the way your smile could brighten up a room. I'll never forget how blue your eyes were when you told me you loved me...or how blue they were when I told you that I loved you. I'll never forget the way your laugh made me feel warm and happy inside, or the way your face looked as you were asleep, dreaming of things. I will never forget YOU, and that's what the problem is.
Did you know, that as I told Taylor I loved her, I imagined I was saying it to you for just a split second? Or how about when I asked Amy to marry me, I swear I heard your voice saying yes back. And when I said, 'I do' at my wedding, I was imagining I was looking into your eyes until I caught myself and then went back to reality. You were always there, always the one I wanted, but could never have.
I decided today though that I'd write to you and tell you how I feel. I stop thinking about you less every year, but you still seem to haunt my dreams at night. When Amy asks me what I dreamed about at night that made me smile in my sleep, I always say, someone I love, and she assumes I'm talking about her.
People say love is like a breeze, you can't see it, but you can feel it. That's you though, Marissa. You're not here, but I can feel you. I can't see you, but I can sometimes hear you. And what is holding me back from getting over you completely is because since you're like a breeze...I'm afraid if I let myself get over you, you'll just blow away from me. And I can't take that, to have you away from me completely. So I'm writing you this letter now, to tell you that even though I don't want you to leave, you have to go.
So please, try to blow gently away.
Ryan
