• I’m Not Sure What To Title This

    by  • January 9, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Well.
    It’s about damn time I sat down and wrote one of these. You’ve sent me two so far, both of them left me heartbroken, so excuse me for not writing sooner. I much rather would have preferred to sit down and write an actual letter, because I think those are so much sweeter. Nobody sends actual, handwritten letters to anybody anymore, but someone should start that again.

    I’m not really sure what to say. My hands are actually shaking writing this, partly because I’ve never written like this before and partly because they just happen to naturally shake and I don’t know why.

    God, you don’t know what it’s like to be me, and I’m not saying this because I want you to pity me, I’m saying this because you really don’t know what it’s like to have been so in love with somebody who was supposed to be the one to protect you from being hurt, but ended up being the one that hurt you the most. You don’t know what it’s like to have to sit through those fucking romance movies, no matter how much I love them, and can’t help but wonder if I deserve that kind of love one day. Maybe one day there will be someone who looks at me like I’m his everything. A girl can dream, right?

    See, you know the Lauren you have the time to get to know, and I know you’re incredibly busy, with work and the situation we’re in, but still. You know that I have a sister, and strawberry ice cream is my favorite. You know that my family has a long line of marrying men in the army and you know that I love dogs. You don’t know that I have a scar on my left shoulder blade from when I was younger and fell backwards in a chair and scraped my back on the concrete driveway. You don’t know that I have a record player and prefer to listen to records than albums because the sound is more raw and that I picked up a lot of British phrases from the number of British shows I watched growing up. You don’t know that I have exactly one hundred and forty three self inflicted scars, that I have more than two hundred books at my parents house and that I have 13 blue ribbons from the country fair. You don’t know that I’m somewhat religious, I’d like a Tangled themed wedding, I love reading conspiracy theories and I can rap every single Nicki Minaj song she’s ever written, and I’m an awful “rapper.”

    It hurts. I hurt sometimes. It could be late at night or at ten in the morning and I’ll over think about something and think about our situation and how hard it is and just panic and cry, because I need you and you aren’t there for me. That’s a rule for people to follow. You should never date an over thinker, because I notice the little things and automatically think something is wrong. Like how you’ve stopped saying “yes please” and just say “yes” instead when I ask if we can go to sleep or how it’s been “Gnight” instead of “good night” like usual. I’m probably crazy, but that’s just me.

    It’s hard to know that you disappear for hours at the most random times. Or great conversations have to be cut short because you can’t talk. It’s hard that I can’t call you at two in the morning when I’m an actual mess, and instead I just have to suck it up and go to sleep because I’m a big girl and I can only rely on myself. I honestly don’t know why I waited this long to write this, and even after everything in this letter, I could probably write four or five more because my heart is so full of emotions and my head is so full of confusion that the only way I can actually get things out clearly is through writing it.

    I don’t know what the purpose of this actually is. Maybe just to be sappy and pretend I’m in a romance movie and that you’ll read this and suddenly everything will just work out how we thought it would in the beginning, how you made me think it would work out. Maybe it’s just me being me, an emotional, dramatic, sensitive, jealous cry baby who just needed a way to cope. In all honesty I’ve written this twice already but deleted it because it wasn’t enough.

    You already know that you’re stuck with me and I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to go away, and I know that you aren’t going anywhere either and we love each other very, very much. I just needed to write this.

    I love you more than you know.

    Yours truly,
    Lauren.

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