Dear Rudy,
I know I said I was going to stop imagining what life would be like if you were still around, but it’s hard to do that when I’m hitting all these milestones that you either hit or didn’t hit, and I’m thinking about how differently things went down for you. Today there was a small moment that was like a really big one and it almost felt like you were there. I’ve never thought that before, not even a little bit. I filled out a form online. See, that sounds like nothing right? But it wasn’t just a form at all—it was my university application. I applied to study creative writing at a university in Brisbane, and I think my results should be good enough to get in, as long as I don’t stuff up my remaining exams. I don’t think I will, but anything is possible. I know it seems a bit silly that I wrote one blog post that no one has even read and all of a sudden I think I’m a writer, but that’s not really it at all. I’ve written all of these letters to you, and I write essays at school, and writing helps me to iron out my brain wires and gives me calm moments. I don’t know, I just want to learn more about writing, and to be surrounded by people who want to learn more about it too. It’s one of those things that seems so completely obvious to me I’m wondering how I didn’t think of it earlier.
Talking— trying to say how I feel on the spot—doesn’t really work for me, not very often, anyway. When I’m writing though, I have time to let the words drop down into their place and form a path that takes me where I need to go. And if I make a mistake, I can change the words so they mean what I want them to mean, instead of having the stress of apologies and miscommunications to clean up because I said the wrong thing. You helped me get here, in a truly awful way that I would absolutely change with every fibre of my being if I could. Still, I’m going to take that silver-lining lemonade and enjoy it, because what else can I do?
Everyone at school seems excited about the freedom that will come from finishing exams, like there are so many different options for them to choose from. For me, university has always felt like my only choice. Even when I didn’t know what I would study, it still felt that way. It’s not that anyone is forcing me to go, it’s just I have always wanted to go. Once I decide on something it feels like the only thing. I like to be in the process of learning, and university is so much bigger than high school. I will still have a schedule to follow, goals to achieve, structure and a definite end date, but I won’t have to do science or PE or religion. It just seems like a good fit.
Mum said she was proud of me, and Dad said it was a ‘good step towards my future’. They both seemed happy in their faces and their words. I called Dee after I’d entered my application to tell her my good news. She said I should work for NASA, which I think was a joke. I remembered to ask how her day had been.
‘It’s been okay. Mum is onto me about doing my application, but I just don’t think my results are going to be good enough,’ she said. She hesitated before telling me that backpacking around Europe is all she can think about. Even the mention of Europe made my heart race and my words feel tangled in my throat. But I told her to do it, because I would hate anyone to tell me not to do the thing that is all I can think about. I’m trying to be a better friend and part of that is not wishing Dee would be the Dee that best supports me. That probably sounds simple to you—you were so good at knowing what other people needed. I think my brain can be such a mess sometimes that it takes up all of my focus. I don’t mean to be selfish, but there isn’t always room to think about what other people might be going through. But I’m working on making room.
Love, Erin