The Letter I Sent Last Night

Letter One of Many: Until I Find a More Clever Title

Dear You,

I thought about this a lot today and I think I’m just going to write you letters. So consider this Letter One of Many because I don’t know how many it will take.

Usually when we break up, I write you a letter. And no lie, for some reason, it always works, when I write the real letters. I’m not talking about when I write you emails that are just messages, but the real letters, the ones that make me cry when I write them. I only know if I’m writing a good letter if it makes me cry. Maybe that’s why writers are drunks? Because they’re just so emotionally sloppy. I’ve thought that for awhile now.

And you’re probably wondering, if we’ve been broken up now since August or September or October (or whenever you count it from), why am I writing letters to you now so late in the game? Because I keep trying to write you the perfect love letter. I’ve been doing it for months now, and I have trouble crafting the ‘perfect love letter’ considering I have so much to say to you. I’ve been writing it for months now and there are two different versions. And they’re so long, I might as well send it as an attachment because they’re too long to send in an email. And I’m not even done yet. So maybe it’s best that I just start sending you things a little at a time before I completely lose my nerve.

Last Friday, I woke up early because it was very cold and I started to feel scared about all the time we have left until we transfer. Not because I’m scared of transferring, but because I realized you and I won’t be seeing each other very often. And that scared me so much. And I tried not to think about it so much until it woke me up again this morning.

It was raining hard and it was windy around 3 this morning. And it woke me up. And I started thinking about you. And I realized I couldn’t fall back asleep. And so I just laid there for the next few hours and just thought about you. And it was the worse. I kept thinking about how we were both going to be in different places and I wouldn’t get to see you, especially since you don’t want to see me. And how we only had about a month left of the semester and I hadn’t yet won you over. And wow, it was just really horrible. I tried to tell myself I was pmsing, but I blame a lot on pmsing. And this is not one of those times. This is different. I am actually very scared of losing you this time. Not that I’m not always scared of losing you, but this time it’s so close to real. And now I’m racing against time. And without you, time is going too fast and too slow at the same time.

Do you ever get the sense that something is really wrong? That was exactly how I felt this morning. Something is very wrong.

Damn it, I miss you. And I’m mad and I’m angry that you broke up with me, but every time something happens to me, whether its good or bad or menial, you’re still the first person I want to tell. You have no idea all the things I want tot tell you. It’s like there are so many things happening and I want to tell you about all of it. And sometimes I could just be standing there and I realize that I have a joke that only you would get. And I realize I’m building a repertoire of inside jokes that only you and I would get.

And I keep trying not to think about you. And it’s like the hardest thing ever because I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Since last Wednesday, I’ve been wondering if I should just show up on your doorstep on Tuesday morning. But that plan didn’t sound too solid. I mean, what if your not home or you don’t answer the door or someone is home and it’s all wrong? I woke up this morning, and I kept trying to tell myself not to show up at your door. And so I compromised with myself and said I would just write you these letters instead. And I argued with myself all day and tried not to write you, but in the end, I would be thinking it anyways, writing you hypothetical letters that never get sent to you. That end up on a blog that you would have a hard time finding if you were ever curious. And so fuck it, I’m writing you now.


I love you. Don’t you get it? You keep telling me to stop trying. And others tell me to move on. But I can’t. I love you that much.

And I try to exercise the thought of you away, to tire myself in the day so I won’t think of you at night. I try to busy myself. I try to crochet so I occupy my mind. I tutor a lot so I can try to spend my time not thinking about you. I watch a lot of tv to try and think about something else other than you. And I can’t do it. I was watching a movie last night and the couple was naked while eating Chinese food and it made me miss you like crazy.You’re still everything.

I keep wondering what you’re doing. I keep thinking about who you’re out with. I keep worrying about other girls and telling myself that they’re just your friends. I keep telling myself that you’re not moving on. I keep wondering about all the fun things you’re doing. I keep wondering if you’re thinking about me. Do you miss me?. I keep finding things that remind me of you even when I’m not trying. Pieces of you that I didn’t know I kept come out of nowhere and surprise me. And sometimes I miss you so much, I break a little. And I got to step aside and breathe to pull myself together.

I love you like crazy. And sometimes I just sit there and think about you and try to piece together what went wrong. And I remember the bad times that made no sense and I remember the good times that made all the sense in the world. And I realized I loved you for all the times, the good and the bad. And I have trouble explaining to myself why we aren’t together. I mean you love me. And I love you. And sometimes I just have trouble understanding why we can’t try and make it work again. Because I want that. I want it so bad it hurts. It hurts like a motherfucker.

And I want to call you ‘Baby’ or ‘Honey’ or ‘Sweet Potato’. And I want to call you mine. And I want us together. And I want all of that. I want our arguments and our laughter and our chaos and our cuddling. And I miss your big hugs and our fun kisses and our inside jokes and our imaginary scoreboard. And I want this all so badly. I want it all for us.

Don’t you know we’re in cuddling season right now? When it’s cold outside and raining, I think about us last winter. Do you think of that too? Of kissing in the rain, of us taking during the big storm, of us going inside the house to cuddle under the comforter, of us laughing at nothing?

I wish I had some clever quote to title this letter, but I don’t know. It’s like do I want it to be funny? Conversational? Sweet? There are way too many angles to go off on and I don’t know which to pick from.

So as I sit here tonight and watch my fingers dance while I cry to the keyboard, I’ll state it now for the record. I’m going to win you back , no matter how many letters I have to write you. And I have no idea how long this will take, but you’re worth it. I think you’re worth all the letters and all the time.


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