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…I walked off after he said that, so he waited an hour and told me that that wasn’t how he meant it
So I talked to him for a little while until I had to go back to work.

So alright.. who is Rachel?
We only dated for 9 months. Her birth date is actually 12-31-1986. She was pissed too cause her favorite number was 87. I’m not sure why, just was.
I won’t claim that I did love her because I do love her. It’s been 3 years, but somehow, that hasn’t changed. It would probably be easier for me if it had.
She wasn’t my first girlfriend or anything like that. Hell, we never even really committed to anything like that.
She kept her hair jet black, which made her bright blue eyes stand out even more. My parents thought that she was wild because she dyed her hair black and had a few piercings. She wasn’t wild at all though. She was quiet, and shy to most people. She was happier observing groups of people rather than mixing up with them. She was also carefree, all the time. The type that rubs off onto other people. That’s why I was surprised to find out she had some type of depression issue.
It seemed like the dr’s had it all under control though, and she didn’t worry about it and neither did I.
It was so easy to make her smile.
I could walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her and she’d smile instantly.
It was also easy to make her cry though. Sometimes, she would just start crying for no reason that I knew of. Sometimes she told me she cried because she loved me so much that she couldn’t stand it.
Every chance we had to be together, we were. If we couldn’t actually see each other, we’d be on the phone. Sometimes, we didn’t even talk on the phone, it was just nice knowing that the other was on the phone with you.
One night, she didn’t call me before bed, so I snuck over to her house (it took a while because I had to put the car in neutral and roll it down the driveway). I tapped on her window and she opened it up. When she opened it, I saw that she was bleeding. I asked her why her wrist was cut and she just said “because I wanted it cut.” I held my arm out in front of her, and she went into her dresser and pulled out, of all things, my pocket knife. I had wondered where it went, but never told her it was missing. I didn’t even care that she had it. But anyways, she came back over with the pocket knife and rested the blade over my wrist. She then locked eyes with me. It was like being hypnotized or something. She looked down and then I did too, to find that she had already cut into me. She grabbed my hand and laced her fingers between mine. We ended up falling asleep in her room and I woke up the next morning before she had. I watched her sleep for at least an hour, but then heard her parents in the next room and had to quickly sneak back out.
I was in a daze all that day. We had school so I saw her a couple hours after leaving her house there. I was sitting on the steps where we usually met in the morning, and she ran up to me giggling. She said I love you and I said it back. I know that I meant it that time. I didn’t have to think about it before saying it, and I didn’t think about if I meant it afterwards.
We went from cutting and sharing blood to (which was only 6 times) sex.
We skipped school for an entire day to sneak back to her house-while her parents were at work-and made love.
She started to do things that never made sense to me though. After 4 months, she was still dating random guys. I’d ask her why, and she would just say that she didn’t love them, only me and they never did the kinds of things that we did. I’m still not really sure that means. She would say “don’t worry about it” and we’d move on to something else.
One day, I saw her talking to some guy after school, and he mentioned something about “last night.” I remember shoving him into the building he was next to and asking “what about last night?” That was almost 6 months in. She started crying and I was so pissed off that I just left her there.
We didn’t talk for an entire week.
She never explained what was going on, but couldn’t stand being away anymore, so I started talking to her again. She seemed different though. I would try to ask her what was going on, but she’d start crying—eventually, I stopped trying to ask. At 8 months, I finally went to her mom while she was away and asked her what happened. She said that Rae refused to take her meds. I asked her about it and she said that the meds made her insomnia worse and she wanted to live without them. I had no problems with it, because that made sense to me. She just kept getting worse and worse though, until 9 months. She completely disappeared on me for a week. I finally got a letter from her saying that she was at a facility in Idaho—she was sent to the hospital one night for trying to take too many pain pills and they sent her there. She promised me that she would come back when she was done. We exchanged letters a couple more times, she even said that she would be coming back home next month. Of course, she never did.
What sucks the most is that I have no idea why. I don’t know why she didn’t come back, I don’t know why she didn’t call me, I don’t know why she didn’t write me again.
After 2 months of not hearing from her, I started to get this real bad attitude. That’s when I went to jail the first time. I also started drinking. After that phase, I realized that a part of me felt like it was missing—and it hurt. Then I started popping pain pills—a lot. Enough to make me go to rehab. I still feel like I’m half a person trying to run around and do things that can only be done by a full person. I was so messed up that year, that I ended up failing all my classes and had to repeat them, which put me behind. I just stopped caring about everything. I started getting high off of anything I could find.
I’ve thought of looking for her in Idaho, but there’s no way I would find her. So I moved to New York, hoping that a change in scenery would help me forget about her and move on. Nothing seems to help.
Then, I met you. And you remind me of her so ******** much. Then you showed me a picture of you—at first, I thought it was some kind of harsh joke that someone was trying to play on me. Sometimes, it would be hard for me to talk to you because you’d say something like she would have.
Then, you told me that you were bi-polar. That scared the s**t out of me and I didn’t know if I could deal with the same thing happening all over again. I keep going back and forth, wondering if I should take the chance again.
Another thing about you is that you have better qualities that Rae had. The top one that I can think of is loyalty. My greatest regret is cheating on you. I feel like, if I had just paid attention to what I had—instead of messing around, I’d be in a much better position right now. I’m so damn impatient though. Well, not only impatient, but indecisive.

I don’t even know if I want to find out what happened to her because its probably better not knowing.

I’m kinda warn out now.