Author's Note: If you're confused by the beginning of the article, it'll help to read my most recent article, "Another One of Those Love Letters". This is basically a continuation of that.
Dear ____,
Me again. Obviously. Needless to say, I'm still silently pining over you. We've made zero progress and it feels like I haven't seen you in forever. But even those little moments get me through the day. Not that I depend on you to live or anything. You aren't the center of my universe. But I just really miss you when we're apart. I really do think about you everyday I don't see you. I wonder what you're doing at a certain moment or if you're watching the same thing I'm watching or if you just might be thinking about me too.
Probably not. But I can't help but think about it.
I've told other people. You know, you got me in a big mess with one of my best friends. Well, okay. It wasn't you. Sorry. It was all my fault. It's just that this whole situation was involving you. Though, you obviously don't know that.
It's been around a month since it happened I guess. And I still wonder if her Tweets and statuses were about me. Long story short, I told one best friend about you and not the other, so naturally, she's gonna be pissed. I understood how she might feel that way. But then to go on her little drama queen way and say she cried. And how she may have posted things about me over such a small matter! And how she was snooping info from my best guy friend (don't worry. He's gay. We aren't attracted to each other) who, by the way, she only started being friends with this year. Has she known him long enough to be sending him on covert missions to get the scoop on me? I mean, she had to know that he'd tell me what was going on anyway. Which he did. After all, he's closer to me than her.
But I digress, as always. That's the past now. Everything has been patched up -- or so it seems. That is, everything except my heart. I know. I'm being a little melodramatic but I wouldn't be myself if I wasn't. I hope you're okay with that.
The point of me writing to you again, and possibly deciding to write a series of letters to you is this: my feelings and happenings with you just cannot simply be put into one article and be done with. No, there will always be something about you that worries me or makes me happy or upsets me or interests me.
For instance, how I see that one girl from my Math class under your arm sometimes. How was I to know that my very (potential) competition sat just two or three seats away from me learning how to solve the exact same cosine function? By the way, in case you're interested in her, you ought to know that I totally see her flirting with my best friend's almost boyfriend.
So I guess I am the jealous type. Sue me for wanting to look out for you because I care about you. See? My feelings aren't entirely selfish . . .
But I suppose I'd rather see you with someone you actually liked than you being with me and hating it. Huh. How much would that suck? Don't answer that.
Maybe soon, something amazing will happen. Maybe even something little. Anything.
Anything that would bring us closer together somehow.
I don't mean to sound so desperate. But sometimes my desperation bursts out and makes me seem pitiful. Like now. Thank God that doesn't happen in front of you though.
I promise you, I'm trying to tame my feelings. Trying to find that fine line between love and infatuation, both of which I'm certain I feel for you. And maybe once I figure it out, I'll let you know.
But for right now, I'll stick with publishing my sixteen-year-old-girl thoughts for numerous people to read. Because there's some things I can't tell even my best friends.
And the perfect people to tell are strangers.
~fairypup2
