This was a letter I wrote awhile ago, in one of my depressed moods. I wrote it knowing very well the person it was addressed to more-than-likely wouldn’t read or know about it. It was just to get it off my chest – a coping mechanism I’ve used for several years when my head and heart feel like they’re exploding and overflowing with thoughts. Things have changed a bit since then, but I felt like this is a fitting response to the prompt. I might as well put it to some kind of use, even if it was never given to it’s addressee.
You drive me crazy, do you know that? Probably not. I can’t stand not seeing you every day. I really can’t stand that we can’t even meet up regularly. I know, you’re busy and you’ve got this grown up job now and everything is coming up Milhouse for you. I hate that I’m once again in this painful situation of missing and hoping for something that probably isn’t there. It crosses my mind almost daily that I should just walk away. Block your number. Delete whatsapp. That would be the sensible MATURE thing to do, right? For all the joy you bring to my life right now, there’s at least an equal amount of disappointment and sadness. Surely that should be reason enough to move on? It isn’t though. Because sometimes you say or do something and suddenly…suddenly it reminds me why I’m in this situation at all. Granted you probably don’t even know you’re doing it. I’d even go so far as to suggest you’re trying your very best not to do anything like that because girls liking you makes you uncomfortable. Oh yeah, I noticed that. I’m not an idiot. I do find it kind of funny though…not haha funny, just…curious. Being on the bigger side myself, I’d give anything for someone to take an interest in me. Even if it’s awkwardly one sided. I just find it curious why you seem to push people who like you away? I’m not saying you should force something that isn’t there, I just…I would have thought your “big person” mentality may still be there somewhere. What would I know about that though? I didn’t know you then. It may sound funny to say, but I wish I did. Firstly, because maybe you’d have given me a shot…a proper shot. But secondly – and more importantly – because then maybe you’d believe I like you for who you are and not just because you’re super cute. Oh, that’s a plus, I’m not denying that, but you’re more than that. Infinitely more. You’re so funny. I could listen to you for hours and not get bored. And you’re cheeky. You’ve got the cutest smile when you do something naughty. And you’re so smart. World-smart, like you’ve experienced everything. You are always (infuriatingly at times) right. For me to admit that, as I’m sure you know, is a massive deal. I don’t like to be wrong. You’re patient, moreso than anyone I know. You know how to listen and how to respond. That is something that can’t be taught, no matter how much schooling or work experience you’ve had. You’re generous. You don’t mind spending money to make people happy. In this world, there aren’t enough people who understand the importance of that. You’re honest. God, guys your age need a lesson or two in that. It’s refreshing to be given a reality check once in awhile. It’s so nice to hear words come from someone else that you’ve been thinking all along instead of white lies to make you feel better. I guess what I’m getting at is, you are amazing on the inside, so who gives a fuck about the outside? I feel like you just assume anyone who likes you now only does so in a physical sense. I can appreciate that, and I’m also sure you have plenty of examples to back it up with. My point is, I’m not one of them. I’ve gotten to know you pretty damn well and there isn’t a thing I’d change…well, except the uncomfortableness. I hate that we met the way we did though. I mean, I loved working with you and I enjoyed seeing your face every day, but I just feel like if we’d met in different circumstances, maybe things would be different. Do you remember way back at the start when we talked half the night and you bailed on a party to keep talking? Do you remember those times we could hardly catch our breaths from laughter? Don’t tell me you didn’t feel something at some point. I saw it in your eyes. That’s why I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I know workplace relationships are a bad idea, and I certainly know how you felt about them. I wish we’d met at a party or through mutual friends or even – god forbid – Tinder. Just somewhere that let us be…I don’t know…free to see how things went. Properly. I feel like this is all being said too late. I always hoped deep down you’d say “fuck it” and ask me out anyway but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. You didn’t want to jeopardise your job. I get it. I mean it’s kind of funny now, given how everything turned out, but still. At the time, I get it. Oh I hope I’m not wrong about it all. It’s one thing to know you don’t feel that way now but it’s another thing entirely to know I was wrong all along. I’ve never been good at picking up signals but I know I caught you staring at me more than once and I know I certainly felt something between us. Please don’t say I imagined that.
Anyway, this turned into an essay. I could keep writing forever and still not fully explain everything. I guess the main point of all this is, I love you and I miss you uncontrollably and I just thought you ought to know. Or I guess, that I ought to tell you. Properly. Not someone else getting in your ear and sniggering as they tell you, as I’m sure has happened previously. I’m sorry about that. I should have been honest from the start, so that didn’t happen. It wasn’t fair on either of us. Too little too late as I’m sure this all is, I needed to get it off my chest. Maybe it’s not too late.
I found this prompt, and many more, here.