Dear #35,

It took all my strength to smile even when I saw you with her.

It took all my willpower to cheer you on every Friday under those stadium lights.

And it took all my courage to confess my feelings to you late that night.

Dear #35,

When you said you weren’t looking for a relationship, you should have added “with you” to the end of your sentence.

Because now I’ve fallen harder for you than I ever thought was possible.

And with a big question mark hanging over us, I don’t know what to think.

Dear #35,

I wanted to talk about our hopes and dreams,

you wanted to talk about my body.

I defended you to my friends,

while you laughed at me with yours.

Dear #35,

I wish I could tell you all of these things.

I wish I could tell you the way you make me feel.

But I don’t even know if you would care to listen.

Because you sure as hell don’t care enough to ask.

Dear #35,

It hurts. A lot.

And you don’t even care.

I thought you were different.

You weren’t.

You had a reputation.

I looked past it.

Dear #35,

Now I’m left hurt and heartbroken while you’re left smiling and happy.

But I can’t say I expected anything different.

But still,

I hoped.

Dear #35,

I have nothing left to say.