Letter 3 of Many: Happy Thanksgiving
This is the third draft of the same letter that I keep rephrasing because I don’t know how to say it.
I have never been more disappointed in you. Two years ago, we promised to see each other today. Today was important to me and you didn’t show. And you never answered my calls or responded to my messages since last week. And I keep blaming myself for everything because maybe I did something wrong or said something wrong, but to be real, all I’ve done is love you. And you still didn’t show up for me today. A small part of me hoped you would be amazing and just show up because I think you’re amazing, and of course you didn’t show. And if you didn’t choose to be with me today, you chose something else. Maybe you chose being with S or D or Z or maybe you just had work. It doesn’t matter. You just, you didn’t choose me. Maybe there is no other girl, but still, you could have at least told me that you wouldn’t be there. And since I am not first on your list, I might as well be last. And it hurts me so much because you are always first on my list. I literally drop everything to be with you for the little time you give me.
And for not showing up today, I have never been more angry and disappointed and upset with you.
I wanted this letter to be sweet and nice and funny. I wanted to tell you how this is our month and this our season because this is when we started. I wanted to write and tell you how much I love you and how I miss you very much and how I want to cuddle in the cold weather, but I do not have the heart to write you a letter like that tonight.
I bought the glow in the dark stars on Sunday, a few hours before I sent you Letter 2. Since the beginning of November, I have been crocheting you a giraffe because you remind me of a giraffe and I wanted to surprise you for no reason. That’s why I needed the eyes. I’ve been writing you a list of reasons why I love you since the end of October. I wanted to make you a hat for when it’s cold outside, but I never got a chance to measure your head. Fuck, you know I love you and you really don’t give a fuck. And to be real, I love you more than you’ll ever know. I still love you right now, but honestly, I am so disappointed in you.
You really hurt me this time. And I won’t be sending you letters for awhile.