Letters to a Social Butterfly

Letter Nine

2010-02-02T11:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Butterfly,

I miss you, and I hate that. I hate that everytime you look at me, you look through me. I hate that you're happy. But I shouldn't be.

the Mouse

Letter Eight

2010-01-15T11:29:00.001-08:00

Dear Butterfly,

You would not believe how well Hare and I get on.

the Mouse

Letter Seven

2010-01-11T04:48:00.000-08:00

After a weekend of consideration, the Mouse has decided to contine with her letters. She says that having somewhere to put them, even if no one will ever read them is beneficial, as she can look on them later. So, without further ado, a note for this letter:

In a wave of pecularity, the Mouse has chosen not to write a letter to the Social Butterfly this week, but instead write a letter to the Fish. She would like me to inform you that this may never happen again.

Dearest Fish,

Why do you insist on being my friend? I don't understand it and neither does anyone else. Your best friend has turned on me, and yet you don't see that as reason to leave me. It's kind of magi cal, to me.

Your continuous friendship means so much to me, and yet I can't fathom why you do it. Is is just for Butterfly's sake to see if I say anything that you might send on to her? If it is, send this: I feel sorry for her.

I'm so glad that I still have you, even though if you had to, you would choose her.

Love,
the Mouse

Letter Six

2010-01-08T07:41:00.001-08:00

Dear Butterfly,

Shockingly, it seems, I'm in a better mood than I have been in for the past five letters. I think I have won this war instead of you. You hardly have the courage to look me in the eye, let alone acknowledge my existence. You take different routes to class, just to avoid me. You go sit somewhere else, just so you won't have to hear me talk. You feel guilt.

And this proves that you cared. And that you have a heart, albeit not a particularly warm one, or one of love. But you do. Once you told me that you don't trust anyone. Why do you keep yourself so guarded? From what I can tell, you have nothing to guard yourself from. Silly girl, don't use words you obviously don't understand.

Sincerely,

The Mouse

Letter Five

2010-01-07T11:14:00.000-08:00

Butterfly,

Am I invisible?

Mouse

Letter Four

2010-01-07T05:06:00.001-08:00

Dear Butterfly,

As I sit here, watching you with your friends, the pain that it causes me is like a small, ferocious animal gnawing away at my insides. Specifically, the spot right in my ribcage. It's painful and it makes me want to scream. What did I do? What gives you the right to treat me like this? What did I ever do to you?

I know I made my mistakes, but you, you are too proud to admit that you made yours. Swallow your arrogant pride, swallow your selfish righteousness and come talk to me.

Maybe that's what I want, maybe it isn't. I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

Mouse.

Letter Three

2010-01-06T11:22:00.000-08:00

The Mouse asked me to type one more letter for her today:

Dearest Butterfly,

Does it hurt you everytime you see the Fish and I talking as we walk to your hangout in the morning? Your best friend, still mine.

I hope it does. I hope it doesn't.
Maybe you'll have an inkling about how I felt, when I saw you with the Hare.

Mouse

Letter Two

2010-01-06T11:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Butterfly,

You showed your notebook of sketches to Owl.
That hurt just a little.

I remember how you used to show me your beautiful drawings and I would ooh and awe over them like any star-struck friend, but you wouldn’t show me all of them. In fact, you got downright defensive if I asked to see your sketchbook. But today, I saw the Owl holding your drawings, flipping the pages like you never let me do. You never let me see those. In fact, you never let me borrow or look at anything of yours.

Remember the tarot cards? I do. I remember your selfishness, even when I offered to buy them, as it was my idea, and you PROMISED that these were to share, you refused me when I asked to borrow them for the night. You didn’t even bring them to school.

And now that I think back on it, you wore the same expression that night as the day I confronted you. That was the day you decided. You decided against me. Over tarot cards. I was told that I was the selfish one, that I was the one being petty and that tarot cards were not something to be angry over or to lose a friend over. I knew that. You didn’t. But they always assumed that it was my fault.

Because you were their perfect Butterfly, the one without fault because you were pretty and social and liked to do stupid, exciting things.

Without me. As I stare at the cursor blinking before me, I feel like that empty space before it. So full of hope, so full of promise. But it can be so easily ruined by just writing a few words on it. Like, “You didn’t need to know.”

Mouse

Letter One

2010-01-05T11:12:00.000-08:00

My dear Butterfly,

My heart hurts every time I see you chatting with other people as if I don’t exist. I get that you don’t want to talk to me ever again—you’ve made that point painfully clear. I’m sorry if you don’t like me anymore just because I chose to be open with you about my Christian beliefs. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that maybe, just maybe, I want to be myself, which is not necessarily the same person as you. No. I am not outgoing, exciting. I am not a Butterfly. But you don’t abandon a friend just because their personality isn’t as outgoing as yours. You don’t just leave someone because you don’t agree with everything they believe. If that was true, I would have stopped being friends with you years ago. Even though you didn’t believe in my God, and you didn’t respect my political viewpoints either, I stuck by you. I thought that’s what friends are supposed to do. You… you never EVER behaved in a way a friend should have behaved.

You know who helped me when I was so unhappy in the eight grade? The Lark. The Lark. Not my best friend, who couldn't even TELL that I was insecure, hurting and depressed. Not you. You didn't see. Or maybe you chose NOT to see.

You know, last summer? I didn’t know how long I was going to have a home, or whether we’d be able to buy food the next week, or whether we would have money to buy new school clothes. Now it’s even harder. We are on food stamps and still can’t afford every meal. My dad is unemployed and my mom almost lost her job. I feel selfish even thinking about college and medical school. But you will never know that kind of pain. Be glad for it. You will never have to rely on strangers’ kindness just to make sure you have a meal. You will never have to be concerned about where you’ll be sleeping in a month or whether or not you’ll even get Christmas presents. You know why? Because you’re lucky.

And you KNEW I was going through this. I TOLD you. And never ONCE did you come to my house, never ONCE did you invite me to come to a party or just come to your house to maybe raise my spirits. No. You left me to rot. And then, once we got back to school, you stopped talking to me. You ignored me. And I’m going through all this and have no one to turn to.

You didn’t have to tell me that we aren’t best friends anymore. That much was obvious. But you treat people that you haven’t known three minutes better than me. You can tell a perfect stranger happy birthday, Butterfly. It should have been easy for you, as the Social Butterfly. But I cried on my 16th birthday. I’ve known we aren’t best friends since the eight grade when you didn’t stand up for me when the Pig made me cry. I knew in the ninth grade when you became friends with the Hare. I knew in the tenth grade when you disrespected my religious and political beliefs. And I knew when you

So enjoy your life. Enjoy knowing that you left someone friendless and alone during their greatest time of need. Enjoy the other friends that have mysteriously turned against me. Enjoy the Fish. You know, the Fish is the only one that still talks to me? Your best friend still reaches out a hand to me, while you don’t. Have a good life.

The Mouse