Dear Mike,

Is it strange that one of the things I like most about you is your hands? They’re big and pale, yet I know you’re amazing at guitar, so I know they’re also gentle. For days I imagined your hands holding me, and I could almost smell you in my dreams. I really like the way you smell by the way. It’s kind of like body spray, but I’ve yet to find the one that you wear. Maybe that’s just your natural smell, and if it is, then, wow, don’t you ever dare wear body spray.
I know Tami broke your heart, and then stepped on the pieces with her ugly shoes, but I can help you pick them up and put them back together again. Tami told me she broke up with you because you told her you loved her too soon. It makes sense, but then she hooked up with Thom, which sends a bulldozer through her excuses for breaking a beautiful guy like you.
I would never do that to you, unlike her, I have a respect for love. Hey, since we both love love, then maybe we would work out. I can imagine the moment it would happen. You’d be holding me like I was made of glass—soft, but hard enough so you won’t lose me. I’d look up in your big brown eyes and a smile would dance at the corners of your mouth, and you would take a deep breath and say, “Ash, I love—”
But I would cut you off. I’d tell you that were young, that you don’t really love me yet. You’ll love me after you see all the ugly in me, all the scars and nastiness hidden under the façade I wear everday. Then you could say it. And I would probably say it back.
But inside I’d be jumping up and down like a mad woman on crack who just won the lottery.
Mike, if only you felt the same way. If only you could see that I'm here—honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a giant neon sign that says ‘MIKE, I REALLY LIKE YOU!’ So here’s the end of another letter you’ll never get, never read. I’ll burn it like I burned the last hundred one’s I've written. But I might just stop for a moment before I torch these words. Stop for a moment to imagine your face if you read these words.
Stop for a moment for a ‘what if’.
Couldn’t you do the same the next time you saw me?

Ash