Letters You Won’t Be Receiving, Eighteen

“Because we never stop loving silently those we once loved out loud”.

Dear you,

You know I love you, so you know in the end, we’re still going to see ach other on Monday even though I wont know how to act.

And I know it would be wrong of me to tell you how I feel when I know you’re seeing someone new. And sure maybe it was just one date, but what stops that from being two? And then three? I don’t even think I want to know her name for fear of knowing will make it feel as if I’ve lost you forever.

And so come Monday, I’ll respect that you’re dating someone. I’ll respect that because I don’t want that girl to have a story line like you gave me. How S said she had feelings for you still and you had still had feelings for her but how you had a girlfriend, which was me. And how that muddies the great story which I called ‘Us’. And so in the car when you pick me up, I will not defend my hold on you and admit how I love you more than anything. Instead, I will bite my tongue and not say to you all I want to say. Because it would be wrong of me to tell you I loved you still and to win you back if you were with someone else, I don’t want to do that to someone. because I know how it feels. Because I will tell you I love you and you’ll say you love me and the world will feel a little magical, yet confusing, because aren’t you seeing someone else?

And I’ll pretend as if, I wasn’t up at 1:30 in the morning today, crying behind my glasses as I write you another love letter that you will not read.

Had I not cared about the other girl and of you seeing someone else and not caring about muddying your story, her story, and ruining your happy ending, these would’ve been the words I would’ve told you when I saw you Monday, the words I would want to yell at you on Monday while I cried and threw ‘fuck’ into every other sentence of my speech. And so it goes….

I love you. I love you very much.

I thought today we were gonna end up between the sheets and just cuddle for the entire morning and have a picnic and revisit our old spots, the spots that make up our story. Because I have wanted that now for a very ling time. I was even gonna ask you to bring out the picnic basket, the one you bought for my 19th birthday. ( Ha! As if we’re not all around 21 now).

I wanted to feel your lips on mine because that is a feeling I come back to often.

And I wanted to refeel your skin on mine. Because that is a feeling I think about every day and every night. And I wanted you to cuddle me and just be. And I wanted your head in  my lap as you tell me stories and just rest there while I look at you and take the moment in.

I wanted you to hold my hand and just let me run my mouth about my worries and the nonsense things that runs through my head.

I wanted us to sing our songs with the windows down in the car.

When the new season of Arrested Development came out I thought we were gonna Netflix and chill and have a marathon. I thought we were gonna get back together eventually and i was gonna have us take cut pictures and put them on your facebook because I realized that I really like that. I was thinking about that this afternoon.

And I want us to get back together eventually. And honestly, I wasn’t supposed to asks you about other girls at this point in our break up. Because I know we’re gonna get back together and so what you do during this time is fair game, because I know we’ll be back together someday. but not now. You see, I know this. And I know I’m not crazy. I had this idea that when we did fall back together, we wouldn’t really talk about this time in between. I was just going to accept that whatever happened happened, but we wouldn’t talk about it.. But then you brought it up and I asked and well, this is where we are.

Honestly though, I guess I didn’t expect you to move this quick. because damn it, I know you love me,  but why so soon? I’m not even considering dating at all at this moment, because I still love you. And even if I saw someone of slight interest, I wouldn’t want to do that to them or me. To lead them on just to know that you’re all I want. That’s wrong. But maybe it’s different for you, maybe you’re not hurting over me like I am over you. maybe you really like her. I don’t know. to be honest, I am very scared. What if I lose completely.

What if she has sex with you? What if you’ve kissed her?

Now I can’t touch you. Not in the way I did before.

When you’re not talking to me right now, are you really just texting her and talking to her late at night?

And damn it, you have no idea how much I cry over you.

But I digress, this is a speech of love, not a speech of sadness. So let me step back and tell you how much I’ve missed you.

During this time apart, I had dream. I had dream that we got back together and we were laughing and you asked me what we were going to name our first child. And I think I told you something with a Z in it. (You know because you’re name starts with a Z.) And I something like Aziza. And someone was watching us and asked but what if it’s a boy. And you said yeah, what if it’s a boy. And I said well, I guess we’re gonna have to give him that name. The dream went something like that.

And now, I will not get to tell you this dream.

What else would I like to tell you?

You’re mine. And I’m yours. You’re my boy. And you belong to me. And this, this isn’t right. This isn’t right. You ever get the feeling something isn’t right? Well, this, isn’t.

Baby, what are you doing? Didn’t you think of me before you made that decision to go on a date? Apparently not.

Don’t you miss me? I guess not too much these days.

I think about you all the time.

And I feel like kissing you, but I won’t.  I will have to fight the urge to kiss you on Monday. I have never stopped myself before. But now I will, I’ll have to.

And knowing us, you’ll still probably reach over and kiss me. And I wont know how to feel anymore.

Maybe you still care, which is why you might be a little worried about me stressing over school. But what’s your point? You went on a date with someone, probably at somewhere we both know. And you know I went on y9our facebook and blocked like five people and you know I log onto it. And you still haven’t changed the password. What is this?

Why are you still agreeing to see me on Monday?  I want to believe it’s because you just really love me. But then, what are we doing then?

I want to tell you that maybe we’ll end up like the characters in one of my favorite books One Day. Because honestly, by comparing us to book and movies and tv, maybe this doesn’t feel too bad because then there’ll be a happy ending. But I have no idea what to compare us to in movies or TV, and the book reference was a little far off, maybe a lot far off. So what do we have left? Rachel and Ross from friends?

How is it you can make me feel like everything and nothing at all? How is it that I love you so much?

Where is that boy I knew back in the first semester of community college? The one who I thought had drive? The one who told me he thought it was weird to make out with strangers at parties in front of other people you know? Where is the boy I viewed as near perfect, the one where I didn’t know made mistakes, the boy who I thought didn’t lie? and then I found out he wasn’t that perfect and that he made mistakes and that he did tell lies, and that I still viewed as amazing ad wonderful? The boy I fell in love with. The boy who was in love with me too. The boy who loved me very much?  Where is that boy?

How is it that I still find you amazing? How is that when we started I secretly believed that you could control and change the weather?

And how is it time moves much faster without you, how the days don’t remain as memorable and instead they come and go, until it all feels as if time has been passing me by?

I miss you. I miss you so much. At almost 3 o’clock in the morning writing you letters you wont be receiving pretending I’m not writing you letters you wont be receiving.

And I’d text you right now, and tell you I love you. But if I can’t have you as mine right now, I will take you as my friend if you will have me as your friend. And maybe that sounds pathetic or maybe it sounds as romantic and sad as hell, but if that is what it takes to love you, then I will lay my armor down and accept. So I will not text you I love you at 2:45AM, not only because I fear you wont say  I love you back (although I think you probably would), but because I want us to be friends now. Because that is all we’re gonna get from this time being.

So from now on, I will  to talk to you as my friend. And not like the boy who I claim to be mine, not like the boy who I’d do anything for. I will just treat you like a friend, like I friend I love. And for now, that will be enough.

Honey, I love you very much. Never forget that. I wish it didn’t pain me to tell you that. Because I won’t be saying it out loud for a very long time.

 

 

 

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Letters You Won’t Be Receiving, Seventeen

Dear You again,

Not like I’m going a little crazy, blocking every girl I don’t like on your Facebook account, which I bet you totally know I go own. Hence, that message I sent you about two or three weeks ago asking you to change your password because seeing you just look up other girls was driving me a little insane and I think I might’ve told you it was hurting me. I don’t know, I don’t remember what I told you anymore. And of course, out of spite and perhaps not really caring,(although perhaps the joke is on you because you’re status still says you’re in a relationship (ahem, with me although it doesn’t say by name but it says our the day when we started in 2013)), you didn’t change the password.

And now every day I go and log in and look at your Facebook. And see what you like and which girls you occasionally search and then I pretend to not feel jealous as I see familiar and not so familiar faces of pretty and not so pretty girls. And you don’t friend them, you just look them up once or twice and that’s it. And I sit at home and wonder why. And then out of trying to forget that you’re doing this and that it hurts me, I delete your search history and silently pretend that you never bothered looking up other girls.

And those random girls that are friends of yours, that poked you on facebook, I blocked them too out of jealousy. All but one of them, bbecause I did not feel jealous of that one.

Anyways, I miss you. And I’m mad at you. Because why the fuck are you looking up other girls? What the fuck, you know?

Why cant you just go about your day, go to work, maybe see your friends, and then just go home and miss me? Why can’t you just do that?

I don’t know what I want, but if you really did want me, why couldn’t you just sit your ass still for once and just wait around for me, huh? Why can’t you just be patient and let me be mad and upset and angry with you while I try to calm myself down? Why can’t you just sit and wait for this wave to pass?

Baby, what are you doing? Why are you looking up these other girls? Don’t you love me? Don’t you miss me? Can’t you just wait for me? Like I waited it out for you when you told me you were confused, when you told me you didn’t want to be with me, when you didn’t know what you wanted last fall?

Remember when I waited for you that time? And I chased you and I told you that. And then you figured it out and you wanted us and you missed me and we fell back. And it was amazing.

Why cant you love me like that? To just wait for me, and to know I’ll fall right back and love you again?

Maybe perhaps you’re doing just that and you just look up these girls online because you’re curious and have no real intentions of anything with them. And maybe you are waiting it out for me. And you’re waiting for us to be ready again. Meanwhile, you’re just looking these girls up to pass the time between missing me and meanwhile, I’m in bed overreacting reading the lines all wrong. If only. I kinda hope that’s the way it is.

I am a little afraid that you only fall back to me because you think I am your only option. And I suppose the same would go for me in that case, like maybe I only go for you just because you’re there. Like what if you only come back around because I’m just there. And I only fall back because you’re always just there. To be honest though, I don’t like to think of it that way. I think we always fall back, not bcause we’re just there, but because we love each other a lot. And sure, we’re crazy comfortbale and we like the comfort in knowing that we have each other, but I like to think we fall back together because when we’re not fighting, we’re really good. Like the overall feeling of us, it’s just amazing. And sure, physically, sexually, that’s amazing too, but when it’s just us, being us’ laughing, that just, that just feels good. And I want to dismiss it as nothing, but I know and you know, what we had, what we still have is special.

And I want to pretend so badly that you don’t have a hold on me and that I will cease to chase you, but here I am, laying in bed ay almost midnight, typing you letter seventeen in a hypothetical stack of unsent letters.

Golly I miss you. And after getting mad at me since I got mad at you about snapchat weeks ago and me apologizing for going crazy and asking you on a picnic days later because I wanted to, you aren’t talking to me. And I, out of safety for wanting to think I made the choice of not talking, told you last Wednesday, I said sorry (again) for acting crazy and that I was going to leave you alone for a little while at least until I stop feeling so needy for you and until I stop feeling so mad. It’s confusing. And I meant it this time. And I told you I love you so much and I meant that too. And I told you to take care. And that I miss you all the time. And I apologized if all sounded repetitive.

And now I’m on day five going on day six of not speaking and I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.

I need to stop opening up your Facebook account. I bet you know I log on too. And I just need to stop. You’re not dating anyone and you’re not seeing anyone and you’re not crushing on anyone. You just look these girls up out of curiosity since some of them are pretty. Nothing weird is happening. I need to calm down. There’s nothing going on.

I broke up with you because I wasn’t sure. I provoked you into being mad at me all that time because I wanted you to pop, so I could break up with you because I was so mad and confused, I didn’t know if I wanted you. And I needed time alone to figure it out. And you, I was so mad, you didn’t even know about me anymore because I was so mad at you and you didn’t know how to fix what you did because it was so old and so wrong, the storyline with S.

And so right now, I know eventually I’ll forgive you because I love you and your my boy. And I know when that time really comes, when I don’t feel mad anymore and you can tell I’m not going crazy in my mind contemplating your mistakes, I know we’ll be alright. And I’ll take you right back because you’re mine and I know you’ll take me right back because you know I’m your girl and I know you love me.

So I’m not gonna trip about this part right here. The part where you look up other girls because they don’t matter. None of it matters. The part where I am missing from your life and you’re missing in mine, this part of our story won’t really matter in the long run. Because who cares about the middle if we end up together in the end? And I know we will. Honey, I love you. And I know you love me too.

To be honest, I know we’re just gonna forgive each other for everything. And honestly, I don’t think any of us is doing anything wrong. We need this time to be our own people. And so you do you right now, and I’ll do my own thing. And when it’s our time, it’ll be our time again.

I’m guessing it’ll be the summer. Right now, we are not safe. I am still mad at you for everything and you’re still annoyed with me for being needy (which is really less about me caring about you, when really I’m just upset and angry at you ad I need you to justify you’re wrongness. And you’re viewing it as clingy, when really it’s just me being mad at you still).

You know people probably think we have all these problems and we do have problems, but no one except me and you know the real us. Of us, when we’re alone, of us holding hands in the car, of us singing songs, of us rolling and wrestling in the covers, of us talking on a bench with your head in my lap, of me running my hands through your hair. No one knows how we act when we’re good. No one knows except me and you.

And fuck, I don’t want to lose that.

Sometimes I wish you could find these letters and just find this blog, so you cold find these letters. And you could read everything that went unsent. We’re not going to talk for a long time this time, and I really hope you say something first. Because I’m not going to, I can’t always be first.

So I hope you find these. And I hope with that you can tell I miss you every day. And maybe then you’ll know how much I love you. But then again, I bet you already know that.

We’re gonna be okay. And we’re gonna be amazing. I just need to breathe and know we’ll be good in the long run. This part doesn’t matter. This is the part where you and I get better and fall back. We just need this time apart.

I need to let go for awhile. Only then can I stop being mad at you and only then can we start to build again.

Letter Seventeen. I guess this letter was as much written to me as it was to you.

I hope you’re doing well honey. And I hope you’re taking care of self and that you’re safe.

I hope this letter wasn’t too long. Imagine if I had emailed you this.

Anyways, goodnight, I love you. I love you so much.

Letter You Won’t Be Receving, Sixteen

Dear You,

This is a letter I will not send you, but had it been different, I would have sent it to you anyways. So I will write as if I were sending it.

I will excuse my tears as effects of pmsing. Because I am most definitely overreacting and I am confused what is left to cry about.

Sometimes at night, I wait for everyone to fall asleep and I suddenly, yet unsurprisingly, end up crying in bed over I don’t know what anymore. That I miss you? That you aren’t calling? That I don’t know what I fucking want? That I wish we could fall back into a time where I knew nothing about you and you were just an interesting person who made the best company. To the times where I just knew you from seeing you through the window of the cafeteria walking to the library. Maybe that would have been enough, to go back to the time and not have befriended you. To go back to my life of books and studying without the distraction of you on my mind. Maybe that would’ve have been enough, to just have loved you from a distance.

I need to let you go right now, at least for now. There’s so much to study right now and you’re not being the stress reliever that you usually are. In fact, you are unknowingly causing trouble in my head that I do not understand.

Sometimes I replay the last time we saw each other and try to pull out the bad parts and the good parts and I try to figure out what could’ve been done better. I’d say I’d picture us in your bed sometimes, when really, I picture us in your bed all the time. Damn, I miss you.

Here I am, yet again, crying to the keyboard, watching my fingers dance as I try to decompose what the hell I want to say to you.

Do I want to get back together right now? I don’t think so. That’s me being honest with myself. Honestly, I really still am mad at you. Not about Z or D, just about S. I keep thinking maybe I’m not mad about S, but then the thoughts comes to me randomly and I’m mad all over again. Like how stupid could you be? And I keep thinking I’m not mad about the Halloween girl, but then suddenly, it comes to me and I think how could you? And I look through your Facebook and I see you liked an old thing by S, and it’s like ‘damn, what are doing?’ and I see you look up these random girls, and I’m like ‘fuck, is it that easy for you to forget about me?’.

And I’m so tired of pathetically calling and texting you and messaging you to things you don’t even care to really read or take heart too. Fuck, you know every time I write you, I end up crying?

You know the sad texts I send you, well I know their sad because I get upset when I write them, that’s the only way I know what I’m saying is true.

I wish I could stop talking about you. And I wish I could forget about our songs and our singing. And I wish I could forget about our handshake. And I wish I could forget about the way you kiss me.

And so sometimes I tell myself to get over you as if you’ve already moved on. Because for all I’ve known over this time, you’ve just been wild. And to be honest, I love your wildness, but your wildness, do you think of me during your wildness? And for that, I love it, but I hate it. And so maybe during all this time, aside from getting cheap thrills of drinking with Z and running through the night with D and skyping and messaging S like crazy, maybe you’re making out with caked-up strangers through the haziness of parties and maybe your exchanging numbers with fairly pretty girls with average goals. Maybe you’re going on dates with them, impressing the basic.

And I’m home, pmsing like a motherfucker, constructing this letter that won’t get sent, trying to balance all this mathematical theory that I’m definitely drowning in, while waiting for you to call me. How silly am I?

I won’t be staring at the phone too hard this time. In fact, this time, is going to be very long.

Damn, I love you way too much sometimes. Because sometimes I think I’d just forgive you anyways for anything in the long run.

The Letter I Sent Tonght

Letter 3 of Many: Happy Thanksgiving

Dear You,

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.

-Me

The Letter I Sent Tonight

Letter 2 of Many: I Proofread This, So There Shouldn’t be Typos

Dear You,

I hope you read this the full way through instead of skimming…

At this point. I am slightly unsure of why I’m sending you these letters. Here I am, chasing after you, and no one’s chasing after me. I’m really in love with you and you are unsure about me. And I don’t know. And you don’t know. And we see each other and then you don’t answer my messages after. I want to say, I get it. Some of my messages are accusatory and a little mean, but sometimes I wish you would just message me sometimes and just say hi or something. And it’s kinda like depressing as hell. And I have to pretend it doesn’t hurt and I have to pretend you’re not an asshole because I want to believe you’re just as perfect as I believe you to be. I keep trying to figure out if I should buy the glow in the dark stars or not. Although, I do love the thought of me up on your shoulders and us putting the stars on your ceiling. So that’s probably gonna happen (sure enough).

And now I’m just wondering if we’re seeing each other on Wednesday like we said we would. But you’re not answering me back. And I am half-excited because I love seeing you. But I am only half-excited because what if you don’t show?

You know it’s funny. I’m sitting here right now, half angry, half annoyed with you, trying to figure out why exactly I’m mad at you. And sometimes the only reason is that you have friends that are girls. Nevermind, that I know they’re just your friends and you don’t fool around with them. And nevermind, that most of the people I talk to are guys and you actually never trip about it. I’m just insanely jealous that they can spend time with you and I can’t. I just wish I could spend time with you instead of them.

And maybe it’s because you don’t want to see me or maybe it’s just because I can’t see you, but I guess that’s the entire point of why I’m jealous, because it all comes down to time. And right now, I keep fighting with time and maybe I shouldn’t fight with it at all. I mean, I know you’re gonna love me anyways and I know I’m gonna love you anyways. So maybe it’s best, I should just be patient and give you time to figure out what you want. Honestly, (not to be cocky or anything) but I already know we’re probably gonna end up together sooner or later. I mean, we fight all the time and we sit there annoyed with each other, but I love us, and I wouldn’t want to imagine you and me any other way. That’s just us. My point is, maybe I should just be patient and have faith that in the end, that we just fall back together like we always do. Because we always do.

So maybe I should stop writing as if we’re running out of time and just writing to you as if I won’t run out of time. Maybe I should just slow down and realize that we’re young and we have all the time in the world. And the funny thing is, I know you love me a lot and I love you a whole lot, so I know I shouldn’t worry about anyone else. Like, what the hell? You’re mine. and I’m yours. And we know that. So who in the hell cares that you hang out with your friends (even if they are girls). The more I think about it, the more I know, it’s okay. You’re gonna come back to me anyways. Fuck all the rest. I shouldn’t worry about your friends. Maybe you should shake me until I can fully get the thought through my head.

You asked me what I even like about us. And in that moment, I could only tell you that I thought you were fun. But that answer doesn’t quite justify what I like about us so much. Because to be honest, I love us. and I could probably go on and describe each of the many reasons why I love us, but this is an email and that list would be so ridiculously long that it would be too long to read in this format.

To be completely honest, I was gonna write a long list of why I love us so much, but I realized that would be kinda dumb. I mean, in the end, do you really need a reason to like something so much? And no, I don’t just “like” us, I love us. When you asked me in bed, why I liked us so much, I didn’t give a solid answer. Honestly, sometimes the best answer is just because. But since, we might be looking for more substantial answers to this open-ended question, I will give you what you want.

Yeah, there are the other things that are just as important aside from loving us just because. I love us for our differences and I love us for our fights that turn into kisses and our kisses that turn into fights which turn into kisses again and I love us for our goofiness and I love us for our randomness. And I love us for our messiness and I love us for our drama and I love us for how we annoy each other like fucking crazy.and I love us for our chaos. Like right now, I’m mad at you and I’m writing this, and I’m not even entirely sure why I’m mad you, I just know that the thought of you just annoys the fuck out of me, but I know I love you so much. (What? I know that didn’t exactly sound right, but I slightly enjoy it). And yeah, you stress me like fucking crazy for absolutely no reason, and yet you make me feel easier inside. You make me tense, but you also make me feel calm. And maybe that makes no sense, but you make me feel balanced. (Fuck, you know, I wish speaking the truth to you in letters didn’t want to make me cry). Every time I feel worried, you are the first person I want too tell because I know telling you will calm me the fuck down.

Sometimes I wish I could grasp the true reason why I love us so much and bottle it up and show you to make you understand. But in the end, sometimes I don’t even understand why I cling to you so hard. i’m very drawn to you Zurich. And with our entire story, including our bad parts, maybe it’s strange why I would cling so hard as I always do. And yeah, I’m wildly and crazily sexually attracted to you. But I’m also just really attracted to you in general. Like as much as you keep pushing me away and as much I try to stay away, I always end up coming back. It’s very confusing, for how much i get mad at you, I always end up going back to you. I’m just very attracted to everything that you are. And I know we love each other a lot, so I never actually feel afraid to go back.

Right now, I suppose I am slightly mad at you for saying that I keep forcing you to hang out with me. And I guess it’s true, but you didn’t have to be such an asshole about it. I mean, we only have about a month or so before we go off and start with the process of transferring. And fuck, aren’t you gonna miss me when we wont see each other very often? Like hell, I’m gonna miss you so fucking much that the thought of it just scares me now. So I am mad at you for not fighting to see me at any chance you get, like I’m doing with you. Like i keep fighting with you to see you and ‘forcing’ you to hang out with me because I know that times running out. And you don’t understand how important this last month is to me.

Maybe I’m overreacting. I just saw you just the other day. And we’re probably gonna end up seeing each other next week and yet, I still slightly panic as if I’m never gonna see you again. Crazy. Like, it’s weird. I know I’m gonna see you next week and we’ll probably end up doing something and it’ll probably be something every week. (But maybe I’m overreacting. We always say we aren’t gonna do it and we always end up doing the exact thing we say we aren’t gonna do) And wow, I love you a lot. And I’m entirely afraid of losing you that maybe the moment does call for overreacting.

Because as much as I think you’re a fucking asshole, I love you like fucking crazy. Like yeah, you’re a fucking asshole, but you’re my fucking asshole. And I think you’re really something. And I think you’re special. And sometimes I feel that if I stay away for too long, someone else will notice just how great you secretly are. And while you and I are messy, when we’re together, everything seems to make sense. And my scattered thoughts suddenly organize themselves.

It’s like i’m mad at you right now, but I’m stressed over picking my classes for next semester. And I kinda wish you could hold me so I wouldn’t feel so stressed. Golly, I wish you were holding me right now.

I love writing you letters by the way. It’s one of my favorites. I love telling you sweet things so much that it’s odd I didn’t tell you sweet things every day. Because as much as I hate you, I love you like fucking crazy. Damn, I realize now, I’ve said that so many times throughout this letter; I’m wearing it out. Maybe I should think of another phrase besides ‘I love you like fucking crazy’.

I was gonna send these letters every three days or so, but we saw each other and I felt very upset after seeing you last Wednesday and it ruined the schedule of these letters. But then I started writing this letter soon after, and I keep trying to think of the perfect thing to say. And the longer I hold onto a letter, the more I overthink it. I’m not gonna lie, it feels like it took me a long time to write this letter.

It never makes sense, how much I miss you. I swear we just saw each other and it’s as if miss you as if we didn’t just see each other.

I wish we could retreat into the safeness of your sheets, when we’re in between the comforter and your holding me and we forget everything for a moment. I wish we could always feel like that.

Love,
Me

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.

Love,
Me

Letters You Won’t Be Receiving, Fifteen

Dear Sweet Potato,

I’m doing okay without you. At least I think I am. A whole lot of watching a lot of TV and exercising and eating a bunch of candy. Perhaps maybe that means, you know, I’m making strides in moving on. But as we both know, writing you letters in the still of the night isn’t exactly what anyone would call moving on.

And as I pretend to not understand why we aren’t together and forget why we shouldn’t be, here I am writing confusing ass sentences that even I need to step back and comprehend because even I don’t know what I’m staying. I don’t use my nook anymore, but imagine all the heartbroken, confused letters you would’ve received in your email if I still did.

You know, a little flirting here and there (trying to see if you notice). I hate flirting with anyone or anyone flirting with me. I just feels wrong. I know you said not to say this, but I’m yours and you’re mine. Right? Right. Well, I don’t think you’ve moved on at all. I haven’t. Not at all.

I’m not even supposed to be sending you these. It would go against our future friendship rules. And it would infringe upon giving each space. And it wouldn’t align with me trying to leave you alone for weeks straight. Because then I would have to start my counter all over again. But that would suck because I’ve already went seven days, you-free. I swear it’s like I’m addicted with you or something. So I’ve just went ahead and written you a hypothetical letter. The kind you never get to read.

I think about you so often that it kinda feels like we weren’t real at all, like maybe we just made all of it up. Of course, that can’t be true because other people remember too. And there are pieces of us, like, everywhere. I don’t even know where. You just pop up from corners I didn’t know existed. And I pull back pieces of you I didn’t know I kept.

Tell me, do you miss me? When you lie in bed, do you think about me? Of how we cuddle in your sheets, of our legs entwined, asking me ‘Do you think you could sleep like this?’. Do you think of all our nonsense jokes? Do you remember my dry humor? Do you remember all those future plans we were making? Do you remember all the times I fought for you? All the times you fought for me? Do you think of us kissing in the stairwells? You think of me at all?

What are you even doing? Don’t answer that. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I love you alright. I love a lot alright. And I am not ashamed nor embarrassed by that. Because I’m crazy about you. And I am having difficulty truly understanding why we aren’t happening. I am so patient with this relationship. And maybe you believe we don’t have a relationship right now. But yeah, yeah we do.

My friend Kelly once asked me why I was so forgiving with you. She asked if I thought I was gonna marry you or something. And even though I didn’t tell her, yeah, okay, yeah. I thought we were gonna get married or something. I thought we were gonna ravel the world. And I thought we were gonna have all those adventures, the ones we vaguely talk about, but never outrightly state because we just assume they’re gonna happen.

And here I am, trying to bring up passion that alive inside of me. Hey, maybe that passion, if there was any, is dead in you when it comes to me. Or maybe it’s there and you choose to ignore it.

I keep trying to think of ways to win you over. The lists I’ve made. There aren’t many. And I exhausted quite a number. No lie, you aren’t making it easy at all. Ha! Maybe I should’ve written you more letters right after we broke up. I don’t even remember. Did I send you one at all? Maybe one? Letters always worked.

One more week or two. I just need to breathe. I’m about to cry a bit. You would tell me to me relax or something. Maybe you would try to calm me down and tell me to breathe. I don’t know. Damn I miss you.