Dear Boy, Love Girl

I don’t know how to start this letter out, things have never been this awkward between us before. We have fought and screamed, and yelled, and said the most horrific things to each other, but never has it landed us in the position we are in now.

I don’t know what to call it. If I were to describe it from someone else’s point of view I’d assume they’d see me as desperately trying to hold on to something that was never mine, and you regretting everything you’ve ever said to make me think that I was different.

That was really awful wasn’t it? It came out far more nasty than I anticipated.

What I meant was this; I don’t know how you feel, and that’s what is driving me so crazy. It seems that we always end up tied in this web of lies and arguments. And you would think that it would make us hate each other right? But I don’t think I’m even capable of hating you.

Honestly, I’d rather be miserable with you than happy with anyone else.

I probably seem so pathetic to you. At least I seem pretty damn pathetic to myself. I’m basically seventeen and the only boy I’ve ever told that I was in love with him was you. The only one I’ve ever considered doing everything with is you. Sure I’ve had crushes, and boyfriends. But absolutely none of it compared to you.

I thought I was in love once, I really did. But after being with you I know that I wasn’t. You give me the kind of butterflies that they write about in romance novels. A single smile or kind word from you can completely turn my day around. I’ve never felt anything like what I do when we kiss, with anyone else. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t make it stop.

You know. You’ve known for longer than I have. You are the one who pointed it out. You didn’t throw it in my face, but this was the conversation we had, after one of our uglier fights.

Me: “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I’m being nasty and rude, I’m just mad because it seems like I am always making the same mistakes with you and I just... I’m so stupid.”

You: “You’re not stupid, your feelings for me cloud your judgement.”

Me: “My feelings for you?”

You: “You love me. You can’t choose the people that you fall in love with. It just happens.”

At that point I got mad, especially when you said that it was impossible to just fall out of love with someone. I swore to you that if it was possible I would.

You asked me that night why it would be so bad to love you. And it’s funny to think how similar my answer from then would be now. That night I told you I wouldn’t love you, because you would never love me.

You promised it would come with time.

Maybe it did. I can’t tell. It’s gotten so messed up between us that we don’t even look at each other in the hall. And this is me, writing everything out, making myself so incredibly vulnerable, because I don’t know what else to do.

I’m so mad at you. Or at least I really want to be.

I also am mad at myself, because the way I feel is in part my own fault.

You had taken painkillers, you’d just had your wisdom teeth out. I knew better than to buy into anything you said. But I wanted to believe it so much that when you said it, I ignored my common sense and believed it.

“I love you. I’ve loved you every single day for the last year and a half. And even when I was with other girls, they weren’t you. When I was with them, they didn’t have what we have. We have such a connection. I know you, and I know you’re scared, but I love you, god I love you so much.”

And it was everything I wanted to hear. That probably should have been the first sign, the fact that it was exactly what I wanted to hear. And it got you exactly what you wanted.

Then the next day you can’t even imagine how I was. I couldn’t control myself. I am normally so quiet and sad, but god you’d think I had walked on water with the fuss I made. I was laughing and smiling and giggling all day long. And then you texted me.

You said you didn’t remember much of the night before. You asked me to tell you about it. Then you said, “It’s not that I didn’t mean it, just that it shouldn’t have come out that way.” and then you told me about this other girl you had been talking to.

And just like that I was back to being me, feeling like I’m never good enough. And my best friend was watching me, scared that I would hurt myself, afraid to leave me alone. She held my hand and repeated a million times that boys were stupid. But she also told me that she thought you really did in your own messed up twisted way love me. She thinks that you are scared to have something real, and that’s why this always happens- we get so close, and then push each other away. She thinks we are both scared, and that is what is driving us to ruin it.

I would love to believe her. I want to think that you are just scared, because I don’t want to believe for a second that you just used me. Maybe I’m in denial because yeah, I meant it when I told you that I loved you too.

I won’t try and analyze your behavior, that would be pointless. You are the only one who knows how you feel. I guess this is me handing you the ball, it’s in your court now.

Just know that I really did mean it, I love you. It kills me to say it because it’s so ridiculous. I don’t stand a chance with you. I’m not perfect, or really special or anything.

I guess I just want you to tell me that this is it this is the end, if that’s what it is. I won’t be like those cliche movies where they say if you love me let me know. Because why would you? How can anyone else love me when I can’t even love myself?

It’s your move, all I want is you to be honest with me.

Love,
Girl