Dear You,


No matter how hard I try I can’t bring myself to write your name. It hurts too much. So for now I will refer to you as, You.

Where do I begin? Some say the beginning would be the right place, but how do you know where the end stops and beginning begins? I know that You don’t, and I most certainly don’t. So I guess I’ll start with when we first met, though maybe things could’ve began even before that.

It was quite a few years ago, when I was the tallest girl in class and you were just a boy. Back in the days when girls had cooties and boys were icky. I was new in town and you were so cute. I loved you even then, even when I was only a girl, even though you treated me like I was nothing.

Life was easier then, or was it? Maybe it just seemed that way because I was young and naïve. Everything was very plain in those days, very obvious. I didn’t search for a deeper meaning in your words or actions. I just seemed to accept things for what they were. You were, you are, very easy to understand.

I remember sitting in class just doodling your name in my notebook, even though you detested me. Everyone, even the teacher, knew that I loved you. I was tortured mercilessly for it. It was okay though because I knew you were worth it.

As we grew older things began to change. Not that that comes as a surprise. Things usually do change in life. All of the boys, you included, grew to be taller than I, and most of the girls were developed. I lost a few pounds, and suddenly boys weren’t repulsed by me, and the girls didn’t pick on me as bad. What really mattered to me though was the extra attention I was receiving from you. It was like a dream come true for me. You even asked me to the dance. You were the first boy I ever made out with.

Of course we didn’t last, middle school relationships hardly ever do. Hormones and things like that got in the way, but my feelings for you never changed. Not truly. I never stopped loving you. Even when I hated you, even when I thought I loved your best friend, even when you dated my friends, even when we didn’t speak for a year.

So I suppose that it’s no surprise that we started talking again. Part of me was ready to try again, and the other part was scared. So I made you wait while I sorted things out. I often do force boys to wait on me, and eventually they get tired and give up. I thought that maybe if you really loved me you would stick around.

Once, during one of our more deep and intense conversations, you told me that you didn’t mind that our beliefs/opinions were not the same because I didn’t lie about them. When you said that I smiled, but you knew that. That’s your specialty, making people smile. I used to think I was the only one you tried so hard with. I was wrong.

So can I ask you something? Why did you give up? Was I too slow? Or did your lying ex-girlfriend seem more appealing? I guess it really doesn’t matter. I’m not with you. Maybe someday the right guy will come along, but for some reason I always thought it would be you.





Sincerely,





Broken Hearted Girl