Note To My Future Self | Michelle Liang ’22

Note To My Future Self

Michelle Liang ’22

I had finished most of this note, but I read it over and thought it was missing something. I wanted to add a sentence to let the reader feel what I felt until I realized I didn’t have the word to describe it. I scoured the internet, not even knowing what word I was looking for. What I felt consumed my brain, but I couldn’t find the right thing to type into the search box. The feeling was just there. Trapped inside my head. I never talked about this to anyone. Until it all flowed out. It’s a feeling whose definition has multiple clauses that cannot function or mean the right thing when taken apart.

I fell deep into a shell that I had no idea I had.

It’s hard to describe an indescribable feeling. Trapped inside my head, the feeling consumes me entirely. I hear people telling me to tell someone about it, that it will help me let it go. But all I can do is sit down, staring at a blank wall, filing through every word, every thought, trying to find the one that conveys the feeling wholly. I can’t find the words to fully encompass the sentiment that echoes through my body.

For two years, Audrey, my best friend, had been through everything with me–or should I say, I had been through everything with her. She terrified me, even though I didn’t know it yet.

Why are you being passive-aggressive… like what the f*** ok then. Whatever. I don’t understand you. I’m trying to be nice and ur friend here but ig u don’t want that. It seems like you can’t stand to see me be happy or be having a good time and that’s really sad.

...then why did Instagram say you were active

hey sorry, I am in Guangzhou right now and I was on the flight this morning :)

I don’t know.. I’m sorry.

I accepted everything she threw at me. I couldn’t see the future; all I saw was a best friend. A best friend with mental health issues whom I would help make happier, which would, in return, make me feel like a better person.

You’re gonna b so mad at me…

No like it’s so bad and you’ll NEVER forgive me. ahahahah omg no just tell me what happened!!

what?? no way! If u didn’t stop eric from stealing beer from the supermarket, i told u i’m fine with that, he’s my boyfriend, not my dog :)

No... it’s much worse…

No, I can’t tell u :( ok what? ur scaring me...

alright well lmk when you’re ready! i’m at breakfast w my dad rn he’s in the buffet line

She proceeded to outline every little detail that happened that previous night. Something about drugs… rooftopping… his room… climbing out the window… I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember. But I know that, at that moment, I struggled to plant my feet on moral ground. I felt betrayal. I felt my heart become so vulnerable that it could burst any second. I became numb. I couldn’t feel my hands frantically running through my hair. I couldn’t feel my forehead scrunch up, eyes staring at the screen, rereading every single word that she had just typed, trying not to believe it. All of the tears hidden behind smiles rushed to my eyes as my arm rushed to cover them, and I let my eyes go to the ceiling to allow the tears to well up and dissolve into my sleeve. I looked around to make sure my dad hadn’t gotten back yet, took my ice water, and placed the ice cubes on top of my eyelids, hoping that it would depuff them.

The rest of that day was hell. I could barely walk; I felt my heart drop to my feet, and, with every step I took, my heart crumbled a little more. I could barely speak; it was as if my throat had swollen up, and every time I’d try to speak all that would come out was a gasp. I could barely think; my head beat with the mourning of the years we had spent before, all the time spent wasted.

On a post-it note, I wrote

I did not get to be mad And it’s not fair It’s not fair It’s not fair. I did not get to yell I got to sit in silent tears. That night, my heart pounded so loudly I couldn’t sleep. A rosy color rose to the tip of my nose, glassed over with the tears that trickled down from my eyes. I could barely hear my own breath shaking, rippling through the silence. Sat in the darkness of my room, the 12:26 A.M. moon shone in, the silhouette of my body visible. My hands covered my mouth, suppressing the hiccups, my body shaking with every sound I made.

A few weeks later, Audrey texted me again. I responded because I was still numb. I couldn’t feel what was right.

I allowed myself to become reimmersed in the friendship only one month after the fact.

I miss you so much. How are you??

It’s so horrible. I feel like killing myself everyday.

Can you help me

why hello there!! i got into APAC theatre! life is so good, how are you?

hey, stop, don’t think like that

it gets better. you’ll be with these people for only 3 more years And then off to college where you can be whoever you want to be and be surrounded by people with similar passions u wont feel like too much of an outsider in college i promise

If I had allowed myself to forgive them, it somehow would have felt like I wasn’t upset, and if I weren’t upset, it would have disregarded the betrayal that I felt and how much I really cared. So that’s why I was hurt for so long. Because I wanted to hurt. I needed to show that I cared, not for them, but myself. At that point, I was so used to pain that it had become my remedy.

I didn’t think I was ready to write about this, although I try to be stronger. My skin is getting thicker; I can feel it sometimes.

It’s hard to write about something that I have closure from, although I don’t know if I will ever have complete closure from some things. I sit here writing this note right now, still confused about what happened. The closest I will get to closure is acceptance because I never really got what I needed to end that chapter, but time did its magic allowing me to grow. From the start of this note to now, I realize: there was no suitable word.