www.whyville.net Oct 9, 2011 Weekly Issue



fairypup2
Guest Writer

Another One of Those Love Letters

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Author's Note: Yeah. I know. The Times gets a lot of these. But I finally understand why. This is one of the only places for a person like me to let out their feelings where they otherwise could not in real life. If you like reading about "unrequited love", well, then, here you go.

Dear _______,

I have no idea whatsoever how to say this to you. After all, I don't even have the guts to tell my own best friend for fear of how she'll take it. I can already picture her reaction. Shock beyond comprehension. Disgust. Disbelief. She'd tease me endlessly and maybe even be upset with me for not telling her sooner because lately she hasn't been herself. But I digress. What I don't know how to say is that I have feelings for you.

I don't know exactly when this happened. Maybe sometime between mid freshman year and mid sophomore year. And I still have feelings for you. And I don't know how this happened either. I never thought I'd like a guy like you. Who would've thought that one day I'd fall for a goofy prankster who rides a motorcycle. Surely not me.

Back when I was younger, I would have said that when I got a boyfriend in high school, he'd be a nice, perfect AP student who loved to read. But that's who I am. Not you. You're nothing like that guy I fantasized about having.

You're not in AP classes, but unintelligent you aren't. You hardly ever read but that's because you're so busy with your passion -- the one that you're freakishly amazing at. I would say what it was but just to be safe, I'm gonna keep this info low key. If you should ever read this, I'd just die of humiliation. Nice hyperbole huh? And even though you don't fit the studious AP pupil qualifications I had, you most certainly meet the "nice" and "perfect" category. Sure, you joke about my face and me being too weird to have friends. But I know that you're just kidding, of course. What teen doesn't joke about "your mom" and "your face"? Truth is, you are seriously one of the sweetest boys I've ever known, if not one of the sweetest people. I see how you love your siblings. Kids who aren't blood related to you but are still your siblings as much as your own blood because of the fact that you love them and they love you. Seeing you being a good big brother to them is one of those instances that makes my heart melt.

You're absolutely ignorant to the fact that you make my stomach flip flop every time I see you. Even if it's just the back of your head. Even when I don't talk to you. Even when you haven't noticed me in the cafeteria. When you're around, I become conscious of every move I make and every word I say. You make me laugh, and even better, you love to make me laugh. You once said I'm always smiling. Your fault. You once said that I was a good person to be around, that I was a good friend. How could I not be that, especially to you?

You know I dream about you? That may sound a little creepy but it's the truth. My childhood best friend told me one time that if you dream about someone, that means they fell asleep thinking about you. I wish I could know if I even pass your mind when you're drifting off into the dreamworld. And do you dream about me often? Because I surely do fall asleep thinking about you sometimes.

I know that everyone says that once they start liking someone that doesn't like them back, they understand how a crush a feels. I always thought that that was such a cheesy cliche. But it's true. I stay awake late into the night thinking about everything about you. Your hugs. Your motorcycle. Your joker ways. And the way you love everyone close to you, including me. But then I remember I can't have you for several reasons. And that's what crushes my heart. Sometimes I can actually feel it in my stomach. That sinking feeling I get when I remember how you think of me as a sister, and/or not your type.

Well. You're my type. I just wish you could see that. Sometimes I think you do. Like when we hug. Maybe I'm just imagining it. But if I'm right, then I wish you'd do something about it. I know that's hypocritical, asking you to say you like me when I'm too afraid to do just that. I'm sorry I can't do it. I'm frightened of embarrassment and rejection. Imagine our friends' reactions when they found out that I told you I like you as more than a friend. Jeez. The teasing would be endless.

For a time, I thought I was over you. I wanted so desperately to not like you anymore. It sucked (still sucks!) to know that the one you love isn't interested in you at all. Yes. I do love you. Honestly and truly. I've known you for six years and not only do I love you, but your family as well . . . our family. I really do love all of them. But you're different obviously. I guess you have that effect on me. You don't feel like a brother to me (Well, okay. Sometimes you do because we're all so protective of each other.) I don't know what it is. But I couldn't resist.

I know I sound pretty serious about this. The last thing I want to do is scare you off. I don't really believe in being in love, being in a serious relationship, while in high school. I just don't think people our age are mature enough to handle that seriousness. But. You're the only exception. You make me have those stupid thoughts about actually being in love so young. I hate it. I hate when I see high schoolers or middle schoolers and they say they're so in love but they break up and get back together every other month. I absolutely detest it. So why, sir, when I think about you, all those thoughts pretty much fly out the window?

I know you love me too. I know you do. You tell me all the time. It's just that you're not in love with me. Granted, I'm not even sure if I'm in love with you or if I just love you. But I don't think you even have the faintest feelings for me at all. You don't like me that way. And that makes all the difference between a whole heart and one with a jagged fissure split right down the middle.

But that's okay.

If I have to live through a broken heart to know you and to even be in your presence, I'll do it. A broken heart isn't worth losing you over.

Still Love You,
A

 

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