Letters Unsent; Sentiments Unsaid

Dear Nate,

In the short time that I’ve known you, you have had a huge impact on my life. And when Mr. Roy told us to write letters to people who’ve had positive impacts on our lives, I wrote to, like, six people.

You’re one of them.

See, because of the whole Avery thing, I was terrified to open up to anyone; if I opened up, they’d instantly get the power Avery had to break me with a single phrase. And he was in that class and I was afraid of even talking to anyone that wasn’t Amby, Dan, or Annie.

The first interaction we had all year was you asking me about the Gillnetter in the auditorium.

But while I was talking to Amby about Halloween, and my Bellatrix costume, this kid at the table next to us piped up and we ended up going off about Harry for a good… half an hour? I knew his name – Nate Frontiero. Then he asked to see my iPod, and approved of my music choice.

I instantly liked him.

And as the weeks progressed, I started to bring the kid to the front of my mind. He was that really talented pianist who played at the infamous talent show the year prior, who did a really good medley of two of my favorite Coldplay songs. And I knew that friendship could happen, but he seemed very introverted, very quiet.

Not that I had a problem with it. I just knew that it’d be hard to draw you out of your shell.

But actually, it wasn’t that hard.

This year, the best thing I’ll have done is turned around in class and asked, “Hey, you like Coldplay, right?” because it started something amazing.

You recommended music to me – and the conversation lasted a little bit – and I took your recommendation to heart. And I was suddenly drawn to quiet Nate Frontiero, inexplicably so.

And from then on, I didn’t pass up an opportunity to talk to him.

I liked that people I talked to said that you were super-introverted, and that you didn’t open up to many people. I could see that when you talked to me – which is the most I’ve ever heard you talk to anyone, quite honestly – you became animated, and you smiled, and you peeked over the walls you’d built up. And according to Sarah Zuidema, that was an achievement. And I like to see people smile, to see that I’ve made their day a little better. And I feel like the smiles you wore during our talks were ones that would improve your day.

I live by the Beatles’ philosophy of “in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

And then we started walking together after class. And you waited for me after class so we could walk together.

Little things like that make my day, if I’m being candid here.

And when you added me on Facebook? And then we talked for two hours-ish about everything and anything? That easily was a great night.

And you may wonder why those things matter to me.

See, that’s what Avery was, and when I lost him, I thought I’d never have someone to share things like that with – a mutual love of music, an ability to go off on tangents and by the end of the conversation have no idea how we ended up there, and someone to walk and talk with in the halls.

Avery was everything to me that you’re becoming.

When I lost him, I firmly believed in the fact that I would never find anyone to fill the void, to take his place. He was irreplaceable.

And then you came in and smashed those beliefs to pieces, because somehow, you’re taking his place. I say somehow because you’re a much better person than he was, and there are areas where you and him are completely and totally different in the best ways possible.

So I’m upgrading, really.

Annie told me how kids were jerks in O’Maley. And I just want to let you know that I have been there, I’ve been treated terribly by people, and I’ve built walls to keep them out. I know how hard it is to open up to anyone.

I understand issues from every area of the broad spectrum. I’ve most likely been there, done that.

Nate, just know that I’m always here for you. If you need anyone to talk to, I promise, swear on my life, that I will never judge or divulge anything you confide in me. I never want anyone to feel as alone as I have.

And if you ever just want to talk about random stuff, I’m here.

This year, you helped me get over my psychological hurdle of opening up. You restored my oh-so-fragile faith in people. You taught me that not all people are going to be like Avery. And you taught me that I deserve more than constant insults and backhanded compliments.

You got me more into Coldplay (thank you thank you thank you).

Nate, you are sweet and caring and intelligent and amazing on the piano and such a (for lack of a better word) beautiful person and you should never let anyone make you feel like you’re not. Because in my eyes, you are, and I don’t just say that about anyone. Ask any of my friends; I’ve probably never told them that in so many words.

I really hope that this friendship lasts a long time. What, with college approaching me at a breakneck pace, I’m terrified of losing friendships. And I possibly just found the one kid who could be all that Avery was and ten times more. I don’t want to lose that, so promise me, you will force us to keep in touch. And if you go cross-country for school, you’ll still talk to me.

Just… feel special. I don’t write a letter like this to everyone.

And feel appreciated. I know that sometimes you don’t hear how much a person really values what you do for them, and that’s why I’m writing this.

Not to mention, I probably couldn’t word this so well in an IM or to your face. I’m not this eloquent when I’m talking to someone. Especially when they get me all tongue-tied and nervous. You’re a rare one, that’s for sure. Considering the last time I fell this hard, it was for the one kid who’d destroy my planet a year and a half later.

I wish there were better words that would express my gratitude to the degree I have it. I wish I could say this to your face, but just reread that above paragraph.

I just have to throw in a few last things:

I love that you listen to Taylor Swift. I think it is so amazingly endearing and it makes you really, really cute. I bet you anything if you mentioned that to almost any girl in GHS, she’d swoon and fall for you like that.

I love that… I love that you’re you. Don’t change. Ever. Stay the way you are because it’s pretty frickin’ awesome.

And no matter what, I’ll love ya. Just understand the difference between that, “love you,” and “I’m in love with you.”

And if this letter’s gonna make stuff awkward: I wrote this under the influence of “Fix You,” and I think that that song makes anyone overly emotional and sentimental. So blame it on that.

And thanks… for everything you’ve done. Even if you didn’t know you were doing it. It means the world to me. It really does.

Love,

Joanna