Before we had the kids, I should have left you. The opportunities were many, but I stayed anyway. I thought having kids would make things better between us, but you didn’t change. I changed. I calmed down, I got a better job, I starting living for you and the kids. Now we have 5 children together. You are still the crazy bitch you were 15 years ago. Now you’re hurting them the way you used to hurt me. But I will be there for them, always, even if it means staying with you. You can’t hurt me anymore. You’ve numbed me to the core. And I will never leave you. And I will pretend to be happy, the way I have all these years. For them. But I should have left you. When I had the chance.
I was happy knowing you, and writing with you. Although we didn’t meet more than a few times, my stomach fluttered with butterflies everytime you wrote to me. Thinking of you brought a smile to my face. I didn’t think I was able to enter a real relationship at the time we began writing, but as we progressed, it didn’t seem that alien to me anymore. I liked you, and I still do. Everything about you is contributing to me liking you. Your beautiful smile, your voice, your innocence. Oh, so innocent you are, but still tempting. The way you say “really?”, and then that little sly smile makes me drawn to you. Even though I haven’t seen it more than once or twice, it’s as clear in my mind as my own reflection.
But all this, the dream of happiness, has now left me. You wrote to me, and said that you weren’t able to continue what we had started. It felt like someone had gripped my stomach, and slowly squeezed the air out of my lungs. Four months of happiness was washed out in mere seconds, leaving only disappointment and an empty feeling. I lie in my room right now. It feels like my life is breaking down. The only thing I feel like doing, is to go out, and drown myself in alcohol and cigarettes.
Cannot you not see that your sons don’t want to be around you? You pay more attention to our youngest son than you do to our oldest son. Our oldest sees this, he hates you for it. Our youngest son doesn’t always want your attention. You only pay attention to him when you feel like it, when you want him to entertain you. He knows it, he hates you for it. We know you only care about yourself you selfish fuck. We’d be happy if you just left.
I think I’m going to have to marry you.
The only thing stopping me is the fact that you’re not like all the models I have ever dated. You don’t have a washboard stomach. You don’t have skinny, toned legs. You don’t have a thin, articulated cheek-bone structure. You don’t have a small butt…
But that’s not supposed to matter, right?
It’s not supposed to matter that I’m only REALLY physically attracted to you when you have lost this much weight (probably for me) and/or we’re so close I don’t have to look at you.
I know I’m shallow. But I’ll be kneeling soon and hopefully I will grow a conscious that says that your inner-beauty, your intelligence, and love for me IS enough.
I wish you knew how much I want to love you more.
I used to love you.
I met you and liked you, Finally we kissed and it was perfect. You were perfect and I thought that it was a great thing. We lived far away but talked every day and you told me you loved me and I thought I loved you. I made a mistake. I was stupid and it was twice as bad because it wasn’t just one guy but two. I will always be sorry for that. Then you and my best friend you have never even met. Pathetic. I went away to school without a best friend you asshole. For some strange reason I was still so in love with you. The whole year i would try to talk to you. I would have done anything for you to say I love you again. I wanted to marry you and be with you. Then Finally you loved me again I was so happy. We finally started dating I was so happy. Now I realized I just love the chase now I have you and don’t want you. Am I really that girl? I don’t love you anymore. It has taken me forever to realize that you aren’t perfect for me like I thought. I don’t want to lead you on. So I will tell you today what is going on. I will tell you today the truth. I am sorry.
I’m in love with you, best friend. As if the scars and bruises weren’t evidence enough. Loving you tears me apart inside and out, and you know that. Our whole relationship is messed up, and sometimes I wish I could change things. But if doing everything I did led me to be your best friend today, then I’m glad I did it.
I wonder if you’ll ever tell your new girlfriend about how you took my virginity two days before you asked her out. I wonder if she’ll ever know you as well as I do from our late night conversations and adventures with each other. I wonder if she’ll feel anything close to the loss I’ll feel when you move across the country in two months. Probably not. Because you have completely and thoroughly changed my life. You have rocked me to my core. I wish I could have some legitimate claim on you, but you’re no one’s to claim. You’re always skittering away, just out of my grasp.
You are a sad, lonely, beautiful boy with more baggage than even me, and in the beginning, I know all I wanted to do was save you. But our relationship has become so much more than just me trying to fix you. It’s become about mutual understanding of each others’ pain. It’s become about support and true concern for the others’ well being. Do you have that with your new girlfriend? You probably never will. Now I know that we tried the whole relationship thing and it didn’t work out. We weren’t meant to be boyfriend and girlfriend. But being best friends and occasionally friends-with-benefits seemed to work out pretty great. It’s impossible loving you and knowing that we’ll never have what we had two summers ago, a simple summer romance. It’s impossible not to feel like I have some right to your attention. It’s impossible watching you forget about me. It’s selfish, yes. But for so long, best friend, you’ve been all that I have.