A Letter to You

December 26, 2009
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I’m weak. No matter what you say, I’m weak, because I am writing this letter, instead of telling you in person, what I have known for almost a year now. I’ve told you it maybe even hundreds of times by now, without fully understanding what I was saying, or to what extent I really meant it.
You said it, too, but you never meant it in the same way.
Here’s the thing: I would be happy, if I was stranded on a desert island, and only had you for company. If I could never talk again, except to you, then that would be okay. If yours was the only voice I could hear, I would ravish in the words you spoke. And if I learned that I was losing you forever, my heart would be broken.
I love you.
You’re all wrong for me; at sixteen, you’re already a freshman at college, while I am merely a sophomore of high school. You’re a genius, you’re my best friend. What am I?
I’m the girl you tease for barely reaching five feet. I’m your Ultimate Frisbee teammate, talking on the sidelines all through summer league. I’m the one you text late at night, the one you confide in.
And you’re the one I confide in. When I was starting to feel depressed again, I talked to you, and when I was relapsing into anorexia, I shared that with you, too. I told you about my new boyfriend, and I told you when I planned to break up with him. I told you almost everything.
But not everything. I didn’t tell you the most important thing. In texting, in Facebook, in going out for coffee and exchanging Christmas gifts- I could have told you. But, what can I say? I am weak.
And I love you more than I can bear to let you know.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

booklover said...
Jan. 17, 2010 at 2:23 pm
kmanley replied...
Jan. 17, 2010 at 9:22 pm
Thanks. I meant it. But he'll never know.
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