I love you.
I hate that I still love you even though it’s been years since I’ve seen you. I remember it vividly. I remember being in high school and rushing home every day so we could talk over MSN. I remember finding ways to talk to you throughout school. I remember racking up my phone bill, just as you did, so many times and getting grounded for it. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care that you were a country away.
I wonder if you think of me, and if you do think of me, if it’s positive. I think about how nervous I was in the passenger seat of that old red Subaru driving across the border with my mother to meet you and your family. We watched Lord of the Rings in your basement and I met some of your friends. We were the nerdiest bunch ever. But in that moment when we met, my chest exploded with being nervous. You were taller than me. It was nice when you hugged me. We were young and stupid. I’m sorry I couldn’t handle the distance.
I know it ended badly between us. Not so long ago I came across your facebook profile. I’m glad you’re doing well and have a career. You’re also dating a model. I’m jealous. Mostly because I’m pregnant and covered in stretch marks. I want to tell you that I still love you, and I never stopped thinking about you. I never understood what caused us to blow up. I wish I wan’t so afraid of what you would say or do. I wish I knew how you’d react.
I wish I knew if you still hated me…