I owe you an apology. I wasn’t fair to you. When I first began this letter, I told myself that I wasn’t myself with you; but that’s only partly true. I am shy, I’m sure you know this. But the thing is, when I get over that, I’m really funny. In that “Could do stand up acts,” kind of funny. But I wasn’t funny with you because I wanted you to like me. I didn’t think you find my dorky, outgoing humor to be all that funny and I didn’t want you to know about how much I swear or smoke pot or how many guys I’ve slept with. I knew that when you first started talking to me you saw me as a quiet, smart, good girl. I thought that was what you wanted. So I was quiet, watched my language, blushed and smiled at you at the right times, and helped you with your homework. I didn’t want you to see me as I usually am–a dork. The irony is that you still rejected me when I thought I was doing the things you wanted.
Sometimes, not as ofter anymore, I wonder what could have been if I had just been myself more.
But here’s the other part of it; I’m not the same anymore. I’m not interested in wasting time and energy trying to please people that are just going to walk away without reason. I also smoke and swear more, and I’m even funnier. But I’m more careful, I know what it’s like to be kicked aside and it’s not going to happen again.
And even if, for whatever reason, you decide to stop following me around and actually say something, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll offer peace, smile, wish you well, and walk away. Because we deserve that. We deserve to stop tip-toeing around each other. And to stop holding grudges and pointing fingers. We deserve to be completely free of one another. It doesn’t have to bother us anymore.