A. Why my last relationship ended. B. Favourite band. C. Who I like and why I like them. D. Hardest thing I’ve ever been through. E. My best friend. F. My favourite movie. G. Sexual orientation. H. Do I smoke/drink? I. Have any tattoos or piercings? J. What I want to be when I get older. K. Relationship with my parents. L. One of my insecurities. M. Virgin or not? N. Favourite place to shop at? O. My eye colour. P. Why I hate school. Q. Relationship status as of right now. R. Favourite song at the moment. S. A random fact about myself. T. Age I get mistaken for. U. Where I want to be right now. V. Last time I cried. W. Concerts I’ve been to. X. What would you do if (…)? Y. Do you want to go to college. Z. How are you?
I’m not sure of your name, gender, age, or location yet, but I really hope you’re smiling and laughing. Let me start by apologizing for taking so long to find you; I was never good with directions or following a map. I hope you learn to love that about me. If I’m calling you my lover, then things are pretty serious between us, and I guarantee that I am terrified. I’ve also probably tried to run a few times, but I hope you saw past my fears and somehow managed to keep me around. I know I’m a lot to handle, but I swear I’m one hell of a girlfriend, and I’m not too shabby at cuddling. I’ll probably scream, cry, run, and laugh my way right into your heart, and I’m sure you’ll do the same. I’m not naive enough to know things won’t always be sunshines and rainbows, but I promise to stand in the rain with you. All I ask of you, future lover, is to be patient with me, because I’ve been searching for you for quite awhile.
I met you for the first time in mid-December of last year, exactly a year ago. At first, I was hesitant, but every ounce of doubt I felt quickly disappeared. The month was filled with numerous questions and endless conversations in an effort to get to know each other. I laughed at your stupid jokes, while you laughed at my ugly sweater, the black one with the colorful triangles. I used to wear that sweater all the damn time, but it’s the middle of winter and I have yet to take it out of my closet because I know it will only be accompanied by silence and tears.
It’s amazing how many things can change in a year. You became my world in a matter of months, and you still are, you’re just not a part of it anymore. I went from hearing your voice everyday to going five months without even a text and I’m still fucking waiting for your name to light up my screen. I was the one, but now I’m just another one in the long line of girls you have left behind. While the love I had for you in the beginning has not lessened, the love you claimed to have for me has vanished. The more I think about it the more evident it becomes that I was not the one who changed, you were.
You tore everything apart. You took the love I gave you and put it in the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed where you buried other secrets, like the condoms you used to fuck her. Did you forget I knew? You probably did, but I haven’t. Oh God, I never will. When you spend nearly seven months with someone only to find out that the majority of it was a lie, it becomes more difficult to forget. Of course, you didn’t even have enough respect to tell me yourself, I had to go digging and uncover the reason for why you were distancing yourself from me. You said you didn’t care anymore, and that might be true, but I then I start to wonder… if you didn’t care about me anymore, why did you keep me around?
It’s this question that fucks me up the most. I find myself making up excuses for you, and in doing so I only torture myself further. I wonder if you lied when you said you no longer loved me because you wanted what was best for me and in that moment believed it was someone other than yourself. If that is the case, I need you to know you were wrong because you were the best thing to ever happen to me. I wonder if you held onto her instead of me because she was convenient. I hope that’s the reason. The thought of you falling in love with another girl while you were still with me is not a comforting one. I have all these theories and ideas because you never offered me any sort of explanation; I was never given the closure that I need. I want to believe that you never loved me, but it’s difficult to think that you were that good at pretending.
I will never know what was a lie and what wasn’t. I will never know or understand why you did what you did, but I want you to know that when I said I love you I meant it. If I had the chance to say it today, I would, and I would still fucking mean it. There would be no pause or hesitation, no change in voice or emotion because nothing has changed; I still love you. I still love you and I’m sitting here in English writing you a letter you will never read. It’s quite pathetic actually, how I can love someone who doesn’t doesn’t give a fuck about me. I wish you did though. Everyday I wish you felt the same, but wishes don’t come true just because you want them to. Ultimately, the decision to come home to me is yours, and some day I hope you do because I miss you and I’m not sure if I’ll ever stop.
I just want to tell you that I still miss you // Letters I’ll never send #4 // mistakenharmony
I miss you, my love, and have such a need to see you. Solitude may well be of benefit to me, but how hard your absence is for me! I long for your little face, your voice, your gestures, and your tenderness. I’m quite melting with tenderness for you today — and it’s painful.