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My beloved friend--

Last week, we fought. Yes, I realize that we fight all the time. This time, however, was different. This time, we screamed. You said I was stubborn and cold. I said that I was, and I said the worst thing I could have ever said. I told you I hated you, and I wanted you to die. You left, crying and saying I didn't care about you.
I cried, too. I cried for the longest time. I wondered how I could say such things when you only wanted help getting through the hardest part of your life. I was selfish and stupid, and I cried about it. I'm still crying.These words that I type upon this old typewriter are stained with my tears.
Remember the times when we would sit together in the park? We were only kids then. We would lie there and daydream about the past and the present, but mostly about the future. Remember when you said you were going to be an actor? I laughed and said that I would be a rock star. Everyone would like us, and we would be more famous than George Washington. You said that instead of Washington's face on the dollar bill, it would be you and me. It was so simple back then; we didn't know any better.
And then came those terrible teens. Despite raging hormones, peer pressure, and differences, you and I remained close. Sure, you were an amazing athlete, and I was a silent novelist, but that didn't stop us from being the best of friends. We did everything together--we went to parties with our dates, we took road trips, we even went to New York. I remember standing on the top floor of the Empire State Building and getting dizzy. You helped me down the stairs, and from then on, we never went into tall buildings again. Remember what I said when we got down there?
"We'll be friends forever, you and I."
Here I am, wrong as usual. For once, I want you to come and rub it in my face about how wrong I am. I want you to say, "I told you so." I want you to gloat about what you've done right, because God knows that you're perfect and I'm not. You're not here, though, so I have no one to tell me so.
I've tried calling so many times that I've lost count. All I get is the machine's pleasant voice. "Please leave a message after the beep." I called your parents. They won't listen to me. All they do is tell me how awful I am for letting you become so upset. They tell me that I'm a selfish pig, and that I don't deserve you.
Such a good twin I have turned out to be. Do you even remember when we were called twins? That's how close we were--people often asked us if we were twins, or at least siblings. We would tell them no, and they would look surprised. Eventually, we thought we were twins, too.
So, my dearest twin, this is my cause for writing: I wanted to apologize, and to tell you that I'm moving. I don't want to leave you without notice, so I am leaving this for you. If you come looking for me, I pray that you will find this.
My beloved friend--never forget this: I love you. You are my other half, my twin, and my best friend. I would never leave you, but I will never stay if it hurts you. Do not come looking for me.

With love, blood, and regret,

Me.

Description
My beloved friend--

Last week, we fought. Yes, I realize that we fight all the time. This time, however, was different. This time, we screamed. You said I was stubborn and cold. I said that I was, and I said the worst thing I could have ever said. I told you I hated you, and I wanted you to die. You left, crying and saying I didn't care about you.
I cried, too. I cried for the longest time. I wondered how I could say such things when you only wanted help getting through the hardest part of your life. I was selfish and stupid, and I cried about it. I'm still crying.These words that I type upon this old typewriter are stained with my tears.
Remember the times when we would sit together in the park? We were only kids then. We would lie there and daydream about the past and the present, but mostly about the future. Remember when you said you were going to be an actor? I laughed and said that I would be a rock star. Everyone would like us, and we would be more famous than George Washington. You said that instead of Washington's face on the dollar bill, it would be you and me. It was so simple back then; we didn't know any better.
And then came those terrible teens. Despite raging hormones, peer pressure, and differences, you and I remained close. Sure, you were an amazing athlete, and I was a silent novelist, but that didn't stop us from being the best of friends. We did everything together--we went to parties with our dates, we took road trips, we even went to New York. I remember standing on the top floor of the Empire State Building and getting dizzy. You helped me down the stairs, and from then on, we never went into tall buildings again. Remember what I said when we got down there?
"We'll be friends forever, you and I."
Here I am, wrong as usual. For once, I want you to come and rub it in my face about how wrong I am. I want you to say, "I told you so." I want you to gloat about what you've done right, because God knows that you're perfect and I'm not. You're not here, though, so I have no one to tell me so.
I've tried calling so many times that I've lost count. All I get is the machine's pleasant voice. "Please leave a message after the beep." I called your parents. They won't listen to me. All they do is tell me how awful I am for letting you become so upset. They tell me that I'm a selfish pig, and that I don't deserve you.
Such a good twin I have turned out to be. Do you even remember when we were called twins? That's how close we were--people often asked us if we were twins, or at least siblings. We would tell them no, and they would look surprised. Eventually, we thought we were twins, too.
So, my dearest twin, this is my cause for writing: I wanted to apologize, and to tell you that I'm moving. I don't want to leave you without notice, so I am leaving this for you. If you come looking for me, I pray that you will find this.
My beloved friend--never forget this: I love you. You are my other half, my twin, and my best friend. I would never leave you, but I will never stay if it hurts you. Do not come looking for me.

With love, blood, and regret,

Me.