Sometimes, I wish I could tell you just how much I care about you. I guess there’s little holding me back; though, I will say that I’m afraid of what you would say. What if you don’t love me back? What if you’re unwilling to try? What if…what if you love someone else? I guess there’s nothing I can do about any of it, and sometimes it’s that fact alone that breaks my heart every day that I see your face.
I wonder if you ever realize just how easily you could win my heart? Maybe, if you knew, you’d do it in a heartbeat. Maybe you distance yourself from me because you don’t think that I’m in your league. There are some who say I’m pretty, and I’d like to believe that I’m smart. Then again, maybe you already know. Maybe you distance yourself from me because you know that I love you and you don’t want me to get in the way. I suppose I’d understand.
I wonder if you ever think about me? And I don’t mean, ‘Ugh, her laugh is so irritating’, or ‘I wish she didn’t talk so much’. I mean, do you ever think about me the way that I think of you? Do you ever look at me during the day and say to yourself, ‘you know, she’s actually kind of pretty’. Do you ever look at the little things that I try to do for you and think ‘Why can’t other girls be like her?’
I guess I can’t blame you if you don’t. After all, I may have been told that I’m pretty, but who knows what pretty is to you? And what is beauty anyhow? A skin-deep characteristic that means almost nothing? So what, I might be nice to look at to some, but that won’t make anyone love me. And speaking of which, what kind of person am I, really? What kind of person do you see me as? Just some overly emotional over-achiever? Someone who spends too much time thinking about what everyone else thinks? Someone who tries too hard on the things that don’t matter? Maybe I’m the sort of girl that you’re just not into.
I wonder if you realize how hopeless you make me feel? I mean, I try so hard to be that nice, pretty, smart girl that it would make sense to fall in love with. Unfortunately, love is irrational; so what does it even matter? Isn’t that why I fell in love with you in the first place? You, who takes advantage of every chance to insult me? You, who mocks and sneers and laughs without a thought of how it makes me feel? You, who takes and takes all that I could possible give without any appreciation whatsoever?
But underneath all of that resentment you seem to hold towards me, despite all the mockery and disdain, we’re both kind of the same, aren’t we? You may not see it, or at least not admit it, but we’re kind of in the same boat, though for different reasons. Many people say you aren’t worth my time, that you’re self-centered and egotistical, but I don’t think you want to be that way. I think there’s more to you that others don’t bother to see.
The fact that everything I do seems to irritate you more and more makes me feel so worthless, so useless. I mean, what kind of person would make things harder for the one that they love? I really just want to make you happy, but how can I? Sometimes I think it isn’t so much what I do, but who I am that makes you so averse to the little things I try to do. Is it really just a hopeless endeavor?
But I guess, despite my wondering, it really doesn’t matter. In the end, I still love you, truly, completely, and unconditionally. And, whether you want me to or not, I guess I always will.
With all my love,
The Trombone Girl Who Sits Next to You