Wednesday, December 1, 2010
We haven't spoken in 2 months - maybe the longest we have gone since we first met each other 5 years ago. I always want to call you, to email you, to message you, but I often restrain myself. You are better off - in your new life on the other side of the world - and I am better off in mine. We don't need each other anymore. We weren't good friends to each other, we weren't good lovers to each other. We are better off apart.
Or, at least, that's what I keep telling myself. And, to be honest, I am sick of it. I am in love with you. Head over heels in love. You are the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night and the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning. And while I'm sleeping? You're there too - in my dreams. I am petrified of telling you because I know there is no way that we can ever be together. You're gone - stuck in Europe - for the next two years.
I shouldn't love you. I should hate you. After all that you have done to me. Lied to me. Cheated on me. Betrayed me. You were never Prince Charming. Never honest. You were the typical asshole. But, the first time you were honest with you, the time you told me that you had slept with someone else, was the time I realized I was in love with you. That was almost two years ago. I am sick and tired of keeping this secret. I am scared to tell this secret.
So, B, I write you this anonymous letter in hopes that I don't have to tell you that I love you, but in hopes that you will feel it. I hope that one day - despite all that we have been through - that I become as honest with you as you were with me.