The other day, my best friend and I were walking back from the store. We were talking about a lot of stuff, a lot of silly things, like the future and having our own families once we get a career started. She was saying how her initials would stay the same if she ends up marrying her current boyfriend (they both believe this is going to happen, just so you know), and then I joked that I have no idea what my initials will be. Hers will be quaint; MEM. Mine will be AP_. There’s a missing letter, as you see. A letter that my best friend joked around could be ‘L’ so that my initials would sound like ‘apple’. Then she proceeded to point out that your last name starts with ‘L’.
I know that you want to start your future, too; to go and transfer to a state college next year since you’ve got your AA now. I know that you’re a genuinely wonderful guy who is going to make some girl wonderfully happy and blessed someday. I also know that when you go, I’m going to miss you terribly.
At work the other day, somehow our small group of employees got on the topic of children. It seemed to be a topic of the entire weekend, actually, but this time you were in on the conversation. As one girl commented how she never wanted to have girls, only boys, you got the entirely goofy grin on your face. You then held out your arms, as if holding up something, and proclaimed that you want a little girl someday. I can’t tell you how… real you seemed then. How honest and sincere and true.
There’s nothing about you that’s fake, nothing you’ve ever shown me has made me regret reaching out to you or deepening our friendship. Compared to you, I sometimes feel selfish: I talk to you so often because I want you, because you make me feel like I matter. Selfish because I don’t want you to go to that state university next year. I want you to stay here, stay here and be with me.
You, wonderful, genuine you, are one of the most important people in my life right now. It sounds ridiculous, Hollywood-like, fairy-tale-like to say, but I have been drawn to you since the first time I laid my eyes on you, working while my friends and I ate and made fun of the commons workers.
So, on the occasion that I suck up my pride and actually say this to you, here it is for now: I am going to miss you dearly when you leave. I am going to wish that I begged you to stay when I don’t say anything at all. I care for you so much, and I’m almost certain that you care for me, too, or else why would you always seek me out while we’re working when you know that we’re going to get told to go do something else besides spend time together? It happens all the time, our supervisor telling you to go do something else, to get out and stop talking to me, and lately you’ve started to resist this. EXPLAIN to me, please, WHAT that means, because I’m trying so hard not to lose hope that you might care for me, too.
No, this is not me saying that I want to have your children, please, I can’t even legally drink yet! But this is me saying that, given the chance, I would give everything to keep you here, to be with you, to have you. Because right now, at this point in my life, I am more in love with you than I’ve ever been with any other boy.
I guess I just had to write this all out, before it’s too late. You make me feel free, safe, loved, like nothing that has happened to me in the past (my crappy friendships, my abnormal home life, my insecurities about love) matter at all. You make me feel like I deserve to smile, laugh, and be happy. That I deserve to talk and be heard, that I’m worthy of you.
(This is turning into a mini-novel…) I’m sorry that I flirt with that guy who comes in on the weekend, the one who I had a class with last semester, I just have to add this really quickly. I don’t know why I do it, I mean, he’s cute, but honestly, you matter so much more to me. Please don’t let me be ruining whatever there is between us. Please keep telling me what movies I should watch, what music I should check out. Please keep asking me random question and telling me little things about your life, your family, your friends and what you’ve done and where you’ve gone.
So, before it’s too late… I suppose I should just tell you all of this, shouldn’t I?