I Said Goodbye to that Window and now I'm Saying Goodbye to this One

I will probably never fall in love again.

I know it's crazy but I still love you. Or maybe I just miss you. Last night I asked Robin what made her want to be friends with me when she first met me and she said something along the lines of, "You actually wanted to get to know people, you wanted to know what made people who they are. And that's so, so rare. I haven't found that in many people. You weren't afraid to do weird stuff like go for long walks and explore and try on the stupidest clothes at Urban Outfitters. You weren't afraid to do the stuff that's fun just because it's weird." I said, "I was pretty cool, wasn't I?"
Then I started drinking. I stopped caring. Well you stopped talking to me. You'll never know anything really. I know you'll never fight for me, but I don't know why.
Nobody on earth actually knows anything about me. It's sad, but I feel more alone than ever as I get older. More and more. With each year, I can make friends and I can laugh with them and lay in the grass with someone and hold your hand, but I know that I'm always going to be alone. It's those parts of me that are always buried from your face, no matter how much I want you to know me, there's something there. You can either respect that or fear it. Not both.
Last night I sat on a ledge by the road with Robin. She's the worst person in the world for me to be around, because we don't like to eat and we like to be sad. But I sat on that ledge with her, not drinking my dumb smoothie, her drinking some coffee concoction, and there was this warm breeze I had lost. It's warm now, and it's like myself coming back to me in the air. I forgot how nice it was to feel warmth. I forget who I was, that aloof, serious, talkative, lovely girl that Zach wanted to talk to, that brooding, sullen, sweet, funny girl that Jenna hated to love, that odd, fakely outgoing, frightened girl that Robin felt safe with, that girl that was me. I'm having to leave a part of myself behind and accept that I'm not meant to be another girl. I'm not meant to be Helen or Lauren or Jeannette or Cassie, I'm meant to be me. How constricting. But that's the person that these people I used to love fell in love with. I forget how to be her. I feel like I've just run away from home and I'm lost in my new land and I regret it, but I can't afford a plane ticket home. I feel I did that time when I buried my stuffed animal in the volleyball court, so sure I'd find it later, only to dig everywhere and go home without it. I push everyone away. Friday night Robin tells me she'll never give up on me and I should try, and Saturday night I don't eat and I get wasted. One day I support Jenna and the next I tell her I need time alone. I push everyone away. But the worst thing  I've done is push myself away. I feel so, so, so utterly alone, and it's not bad. I'm starting from Block 0. Here I am, with nobody knowing me, not Robin not my parents nobody, and you left me Zach, and I pushed Jenna away. But I'm me. I'm here. I'm working on it.
I'm going to leave this university. I absolutely hate it. I hate who I've become here, and I hate my friends. I thought to myself, if I were to have a party to celebrate graduation, I'd want to celebrate it with Jenna and Kyle and Zack and Ryan and Lauren and Adrian and Cella, not Jeannette and Celeste and Robin and Monica. I feel bad because Robin's tried so hard for me, but it's impossible. She'll probably read this all one day, but we'll never be friends again, and that's for the best. I'm meant to be best friends with Jenna. I'm meant to be surrounded by good things, or else you see what happens.
So I'm leaving and I won't come back to visit. I hate it. I'm actually extremely excited to leave. Every time I pack, I get a little more happy. I find excuses to pack more. Every time I look at my pile of luggage and boxed up stuff, I feel a little more free. I don't care if I have to take a gap year, I'm not coming back. I'm going to get a job, buy some nice things, meet some new people. It's time to grow up, Bianca. You can't hang off of your friends anymore. Sure, they're nice. But they've moved on. Do the same.

Somebody come kill me, please.