Letter to a boy that was never mine
I woke up today and I had dreamt of you last night. I know myself enough to know that I always dream of the guys that I really, really like.
Well, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve dreamt of you. You’ve been in my dreams many times before. I’m not trying to say that I just discovered that I like you. I’ve known that for a while now. I really can’t think of the exact moment I started to like you. It all came up gradually, like filling a vase or hearing a police siren approaching to where you are.
Do you remember? We used to do ordinary friend stuff… well, honestly, now that I can freely admit that I am in love with you, it’s very hard for me to remember a time when I weren’t. It’s not like I’ve always been, of course not, I do remember a time when I did think of you as a friend only, and I even thought you were a bit annoying. However, now it’s just some kind of blurry memory, I feel like I’ve been in love with you for a long time but, let’s be honest, it’s not even been that long.
I feel so many things for you I don’t even know where to start.
One thing I know is that yours might have been the third time I’ve fallen in love, and you know what they say: “third time’s the charm”… It’s a shame, because I think one of the things I precisely couldn’t do is exactly that: charm you.
I don’t know, okay? You made me start thinking about cheesy stuff again. Once again I had someone’s arms to imagine myself into. Once again I had someone’s lips to mourn. Once again I had somebody’s voice to think of at night. Once again I imagined myself walking alongside other person, hand by hand…
Oh but how naïve I was being
How blind because I wanted to be blind and how deaf because I wanted to be deaf.
It felt nice, you know? The biggest difference between you and the others is that, before, I fell in love with the boys hoping they would love me too, hoping they would find me attractive too, hoping they would see me as I saw them. With you it wasn’t like that, at least not at the beginning.
I loved you because it made me happy. You made me happy, your existence was amusing to me. I was told you weren’t nice, you yourself used to tell me “you were the devil”, but I didn’t see any of that. To me, you were (and still are) one of the most amazing people ever. Telling you all the reasons why you, to my eyes at least, were so worth of loving would take me a lot of words I’m not willing to write because then I’m going to start to feel bad I don’t have such an amazing person with me. The thing is that with you I discovered a whole new feeling I hadn’t felt just yet. I’m not really sure if I can call it “true love”, to me, it was love, and it was true, so it might have been that, who knows what true love is anyways? Has anybody got an exact definition? I don’t think so. Let’s say that if it wasn’t true love at least it was some kind of overwhelming devotion that shoved me into thinking that you were all there is. I gave myself to you in many ways. Physical. Emotional. Devotional. I had never so blindly put myself at someone’s will. I was, and still am, completely devoted to you.
The sad part is that, although at first I was ok with a one-sided relationship, later I got the idea that it might actually work between us. Suddenly we started kissing, we started spending our nights together, we started with pet names, we started sharing our lives even more. You were the first person to pop into my mind. You started trying.
I have a diary I’ve kept for almost six years now. It’s filled with how I’ve felt with most my relationships. Your name comes up on a page I unfortunately didn’t write the date on, it’s before February 1st though. It’s been 10 months, more or less. After that, your name just keeps showing up, until it becomes all about you at the end. And it was the end, really. I ran out of pages. In all those pages, most of the days, I wrote the same thing: “don’t get your hopes up”. I wrote this because I had the feeling things wouldn’t go as smoothly as them seemed. Then you confirmed my tragedy: you didn’t like me the way I liked you.
I was so sad and mad at myself for how weak I had been. I fell in love with you because you were super nice to me. “I’m ridiculous, I must look so desperate” I thought. But then I stupidly decided not to believe you, because, you know that saying “actions speak louder than words”? I decided to go by it, and not believe your words but what you did instead. And it made sense. In my mind everything would be okay, because you did things for me nobody else ever had done, because you spent so much time with me, because I felt inseparable to you. I got my hopes up.
But I should’ve believed your words.
To this day, one of the things that breaks my heart the most is something you said to me: “our thing would’ve been perfect if I felt for you what you feel for me”. This shatters me because I can’t do anything about it. I know well that you don’t pick who you fall in love with, it just happens. I know you can’t force yourself into feeling something for someone, that’s just not healthy. I know that it hurts on the other side too, knowing you’re hurting someone but also knowing you would hurt them even more if you started to live a lie with them. So don’t worry, I understand. I never blamed you for anything. Not for one second.
But understanding doesn’t stop hurting, you know? I had told you I wanted to be your only one, I wanted to know how it felt to be loved by you, to be the girl of your eyes, to be the one you think of at night, to be the one you see your future with, to be the one there by your side. I was never that. I wanted to make you feel good again, and I couldn’t. And when you told me you had found that feeling in someone else… well, honestly, it was the end of me. I did the obvious: I started to wonder what was wrong with me. Why did you have to go back to her? Was I just a waste of time? What did I ever mean to you? And a whole lot of questions I haven’t answered yet. I thought I had been just a nuisance to you, or someone just to pass the time. I thought you never took me seriously, I felt ridiculous again and I doubted everything.
I thought that then should’ve been the end. I thought I wouldn’t bother you anymore. I thought it was time to give up my feelings and try to get over you.
You know what?
And I couldn’t.
I found myself thinking of everything you are, everything you do, everything you like, the way you act, the way you speak, the jokes you make, even how you look and I thought “I don’t want to let him go”. Then I worried a lot about me and that I might be a masochist, or just plain dumb, but it’s okay. I don’t want to give up. I want to be with you. I love you. I can’t let you go just yet. I want to be by your side when you make new things, when you go living new adventures. I wanna hold you when you feel bad. I want to love you. I want to sing with you. I wanna lay with you. I love you.
And I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. I’m scared I end up annoying you. I’m scared you end up hating me. I’m scared the worst possible scenario could become true. I’m frightened I might disappoint you, but I am willing to give you all I’ve got.
So know that at least this is true: you’re such an amazing and lovable human being that you’ve made this girl fall so blindly in love with you and adore you so much that she ends up writing and blatantly pouring her feelings not caring about what the final results will be.
I love you, and for the way things seem to be moving
I’ll always will.