Dear You,

I hate how you come into my life at random moments. I tell my friends I'm done with you and that I'll never go back to you. But all you have to do is flash me one of your smiles or give me a look with you gorgeous blue eyes. Then from there it's all down hill.

I know you have other girls you toy around with in your own town. You make them feel special like you make me feel special. But at least you call them. At least you're there for more than a day with them before you take off. I wish I wanted the same thing you wanted, just a hookup. But the truth is it's been about six months since I've been sure I've wanted more.

I can't date anyone else because all I think about is you, which is pathetic because I know you won't love me. Ever. I miss you constantly. You told me so many things and I wanted to believe every word you said. It sounded so nice, so perfect. I still remember the night you told me you wanted to try this summer. You wanted to make it work. But I doubt that will happen.

I miss you kissing me, having your arms around me all the time. No one compares because whatever I felt with you I've never felt it before. What hurts the most, is knowing for you, I was just another girl and that it doesn't change the way I feel at all.

Love Always,
Emma

Dear Mr. Rebel,

You've made mistakes, so have I. I've always been there to support you, even when the mistakes you make frustrate me. You come across to everyone as a free sprit, as the rebel. The one who always wants to get away. I've never seen you like that. You don't mean to hurt the people you love by the things you've done, but I can't help hoping that one day you will be a little bit wiser. I don't want you to change who you are, I just want you to know the difference between right and wrong. I can't help you with that. I can't be your voice of reason anymore. That breaks my heart.

Honestly, I don't know why you want me. I'm so different from you. Adventure sometimes scares me, I would rather sit with a good book, and I love coffee. I can't climb up the face of the mountain without being terrified, I'm safest on the ground. Why did I catch your eye? You could have anyone you want, there are people waiting in line. I'm nothing special. I've just ever been your friend.

We've been through a lot together. We've helped so many people together. To say that you need to learn some lessons without me is hard. Frankly, I have to learn some lessons, too. I'm used to having people around to help me decide where I should go, what I should do, and who I should be. It's time for me to learn how to live with who I am. We both have some stuff to work on, some baggage to get rid of.

I think I want to be with you--I know I miss you when you're not with me--but I want to make sure that I'm missing YOU and not just missing the comfort you bring. I'm waiting for you to grow up and become the man that I KNOW is in there. I'm waiting until I can be confident on my own. I know I've hurt you by saying no, by guarding our friendship. I don't want to hurt you, but I know we both need to change to be healthy.

Waiting may mean that we both become strangers to one another. I hope that's not what happens, but we both will change. It this means that we will never get to even try to be more than friends, then ok. I want you to be happy. Whatever happens, believe that I will always love you. Maybe not in a romantic way, but I will always be here to encourage, comfort, and serve you any way that I can. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find truth.

Love,

Waiting

Dear You,

I had found the perfect man. Even though I had known you for so little time, it was like we were meant to be together.

I saw myself marrying you. We spent countless hours awake at night, talking endlessly. I was the happiest I had ever been.

Then you told me you had to wait. Wait to be in a relationship. Wait to tell your friends about me. Wait to be with me.

I was okay with it. I told myself that patience is a virtue. I loved you, even then, enough to trust you with our future.

Things were okay at first. You still showed me that you liked me. You still talked to me as if you wanted to be with me.

Then, out of nowhere, you changed. You stopped being polite and chivalrous, which is why I noticed you in the first place.

You stopped talking to me - you only wanted me for my body, and not for my "me."

I never thought you were that kind of guy.

And the worst part is,
I still love you.

I wish things would go back the the way they were.

Love (maybe forever),
Me

Dear You,

I need to get this off my chest because I've been feeling this way for a long time now. I think you're wonderful. You make me so happy and I like who I am when I am with you. You never know what to say and I love that about you. You're goofy, and hard headed but you're also sweet and compassionate when no one's looking. You told me you liked me but I was scared and didn't know what I wanted. It's not fair because I didn't know I liked you when I could've had you and now I'm afraid it's too late. I understand if you've moved on because if I were you I probably would've too. You deserve the best because you deal with a lot and never complain, ever. You drive me crazy. You're tough on me and you always disagree with what I say but when were not together I miss you like crazy. I love that you drive me crazy and I wouldn't want it any other way. I think I might be in love with you, and if I'm not in love with you then I sure as hell could be. You're not simple. You're more than confusing and you're secretly brilliant and maybe you don't even know it. I would never want anything less than that though because you always keep me guessing and it's wonderful. You're truly wonderful and if only I could tell you to your face but I'm scared. I'm scared of everything and I'm scared of you. If I could I would run up to you right now and tell you how I feel but something inside of me just isn't brave enough. You will do fantastic things and even if I never get the courage to tell you how I feel I sure hope you know it somewhere deep down inside.

From,
me.

Dear Rory,

Do you remember when we held hands on your father's couch? This is the memory I will always cherish. I miss you.

Love,
I will always...

Dear Hip-Hop,

That’ s what my sister called you when you tried to give me that gift anonymously, 'memba? It’s been 3 months to the day since we last spoke amiably on the phone. Yeah, I know me and my memories. I remember what I choose to remember. I miss you so terribly, some times more than others. You were my closest friend. You loved me in spite of me, you knew just about all there is to know about me, and you loved me, never judged me.

I try to imagine forever without you and it’s hard. I remember the dreams I had of our future, and I wonder if that’s all they were, dreams. They seemed so real, as though they would one day come to pass. So now, here I am, 3 months has passed and I’m finding it hard to get over you. Really, honestly I don’t want to get over you because what I had with you, was so special to me, it stemmed deeper than any relationship I ever had. We had a wonderful foundation of friendship, and intellectual conversation. I knew you, and you knew me. I can’t even see letting anyone else in and that scares me. Scares me because I’m afraid if I don’t let anyone else in, I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I’ll never have the children I so desire.

Sometimes, I want to scream your name and tell you all what I feel and am going through. But I know there is nothing you can or have chosen to do about it.
I don’t blame you for choosing not to embrace all that I believe, I applaud your integrity to your Jah, what you believe and your convictions. I only wish that the love you claimed for me could have or would have overridden them.

I miss your arms wrapped around me, and your lips pressed against mine. I reminisce on that moment, when last I saw you, 5 months ago. I had unlocked my front door, the sun was due to come up in an hour, and you were heading back overseas in 6 hours. I knew then, it was the last time we would hold each other, the last time we would kiss each other goodbye- I knew I was going to come to my spiritual senses. We embraced, we kissed, we were face to face, and simultaneously we broke the silence by whispering, “I love you.” – I do not doubt it to this day, the only problem was, the love was not strong enough for you to change. You said yourself, it’s like we’re from two totally different worlds, and it would not be good for me to come to yours, and you couldn’t see yourself transitioning to mine. Oh, how I wish that you could have. How part of me desires to wait for you to do so. But just as the song says, “I don’t want to wait in vain for your love.”

I know I got to let you go, and at times, I believe I am. Then nights like these come, and I find myself in tears, wishing you were here. I cry in my room, and try to keep it down so no one hears me. No one knows the pain I am enduring, I imagine they think I’m over it, and I should be- that is those that know.

I just want you to know that I love you, more than those three words can express…. and I wonder if I'll ever let you go.

Kuaasi’s girl.

Dear E:

I have a hard time telling people who you are. I can't really describe you as my ex, because you never will admit we loved each other. Maybe WE didn't. But I sure loved you. I can't descibe you as just a friend, because you were so much more than that. So most of the time, I just describe you as 'the boy who broke my heart'. I know, it's cheesy and campy and cliche, but it's true. So I hope you understand when I say that I am having a very hard time feeling sorry for you now that you are the one with a broken heart.

True, I was nice and chatted with you. True, I tried to cheer you up. I don't even know if your heart was broken, entirely. But I know you wanted him SO BAD. In your mind, he was totally your type: both of you big and manly and muscular and in the medical field, both of you looking for something stable to get you through your two years on the island. So it hurt, didn't it, when you saw him kissing that younger, browner, cuter boy? When you heard that he had said you were 'not his type'? When you realized he had rejected you without so much as letting you know?

You remember how you got all excited when he finally FINALLY agreed to go on a date with you? You nerviously got dressed, did your hair up good, got ready to impress the hell out of him... only to be sorely disappointed at the outcome of the night. Not even a good night kiss! How could something that you had pictured so perfect in your mind go so wrong so fast?

Does any of this sound like exactly what happened a year ago? Let me rewind the reel for you, back up to before you or I came out.

I remember a depressed, confused boy who lived in the body of a beast, a boy searching for someone to listen to him and help him figure himself out. Someone to love him and tell him it was OK to be this boy-beast who loved other men and wanted to be loved back by them. I remember writing letters back and forth in a fury, both of us struggling to express who we were and what we wanted out of life and love. I remember doing this for MONTHS, being your sole confidant. I remember it progressing to "I love you" and flirtatious texts and thoughtful deeds. I remember that I loved you before you were skinny, before you turned heads, before you moved to the big city and had a circle of hot friends around you that you felt you needed to fit in with and started shedding pounds and morals. I loved you when you were confused and hurting and needing someone to love you. All I ever wanted was for you to love me back, and I thought you did.

And then came the summer, and the much-anticipated visit, and the dance on the beach, and clothes coming off the instant your parents walked out the door every day and shushing each other at night so we didn't wake them in the other room. It was the best four days of my life up until that week, and I was in heaven. I thought I had found you, that I had my one. I went home, head in the clouds, thinking things were going to continue like they had for 6 months.

I was so wrong. The utter silence that followed was a million times worse than if you had just slapped my face and told me you hated me. Weeks I waited to hear from you, forced myself to not write, to not bother you. And as time wore on, my love for you ebbed and was replaced by hurt and anger. And when I finally wrote you, broken hearted and finished, all I needed was notice that you had moved on, not a letter telling me you were tired of me.

So I hope you can understand, dear E, why I told you I loved you and always would. And I hope you can understand why I was so happy to hear that your heart had been stomped on by a man much hotter than you. Maybe now you can understand what you did to me, how you took my hope and desires for something good and something that seemed perfect and tossed them to the side like they didn't matter at all.

I don't want your love anymore. I moved past that. I will always love you, I wasn't lying when I said that. All I want from you are two words: I'm Sorry. Before this happened, it wouldn't have meant much, just that you were sorry you had done something you maybe shouldn't have. Now, though, it will mean so much more because you know how it hurts and you will be sorry because you caused ME that pain, because you did that to ME. And maybe it will show you how much I cared about you, to be able to talk to you while you were down about it... and not kick you.

I doubt you'll ever say you're sorry. That's ok, because I doubt this is a letter I'll ever send.

I love you, and I always will,
D