Is it possible for every lonely soul to have an equal?
The woman who lives alone in her apartment and sings to sad songs in the shower... isn't there someone whose fingers lace perfectly with hers?
That man who wanders from city to city in a trance... couldn't there be someone for him to call home?
And the girl who tosses and turns in a bed that's too big... isn't there someone out there who can fill the space?
What about the boy that cries at night... there's bound to be someone that he can lean on, right?
If there's so many lonely people, why is it that some people end up alone?
This goes out to the boys I’ve given a piece of myself to, and the heart of the love letters I write on this blog. No description necessary... I wasn’t really ever worth it anyway, was I?
Boy number one, you were the very first, but I can’t find the strength to write too much about you, because you hit me the hardest. You were my first love, and as I now realize, the only real love I’ve ever known. We grew up together as best friends, thick as thieves... in a perfect world, that sentence would’ve ended with, “for all the years to come.” But they didn’t come, did they? For I left our hometown, our home country. I left you, but never by choice. The memory of you chasing the car in tears as I drove to the airport, of your sea-blue eyes, of your freckled face... they still haunt me. You were so in love with me, and I with you. I can still feel your hands on my skin, I can still hear the music of your laugh. We shared so much life together, and to this day no one has ever known me quite so deeply as you did. We were lovers of sorts, a secret from our families and friends. So, naturally and as any real lover would do, you decided to find physical comfort in my closest girlfriend from school, just a month after I’d gone.
But I forgave you, because I believed you still loved me like I loved you.
I was right, we were in love, but silly me. After all, how much love can really travel 10,000 miles overseas?
Boy number two, you were the rebound of my first love. You were so kind, so open, so exactly what I needed...
But your letter is short, kind of like our relationship was. How could you make me choose between you and my best friend, the girl who’s been there for me from the start of my new life? How dare you hurt her like she was yours to hurt, and then think I’d still want you? You knew I was in pain, you knew what I’d been through, and yet you used the ones I loved against me. You disgust me and my best friend. I hope you know that.
Boy number three, you were the silly schoolgirl crush. Never went deep, but you always did something to me. We’ve been excellent friends since the day we met... remember that? Something clicked, and ever since then we’ve had this simple, easy friendship that I still cherish. But then, you admitted your feelings for me that day when we were laughing and talking together in the late afternoon by the football field. It kinda slipped out, and I remember feeling butterflies as I watched your expression of horror at what you’d just said. But then you smiled... and honey, you could never fail to make me smile.
Except for that one time when you did.
You led me on, and then I was the first to know when you and your beautiful ex got back together. I was so genuinely happy for you, but it was bittersweet. You’re the “could’ve been”... and I still wonder what could have been, don’t you?
Boy number four, fuck you. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Isn’t there anything you’re not good at? I’d never noticed you as a possibility before, seeing as you always seemed to be out of my reach. But boy, I was so wrong... I could most certainly get my hands on you, in ways I hadn’t realized in the past.
It all began with a kiss that should’ve been as professionals, as actors. And then a second one, more passionate. A third, that time strictly off-script. You flirted with me in ways that made me have to flirt back. You were dominant, but so am I, and you challenged me with everything you did. You brought out a side in me that I hadn’t seen in a long time... and I liked that side of me. I could’ve had you on your knees begging for more so easily. You were always the boy that every girl turned her head for, and you picked me.
But the thing is... you picked me second.
You were in love with a girl that wasn’t me, just like I was in love with a boy that wasn’t you. We met each other’s physical needs almost too well, and our chemistry was all too “love-hate”... and I let myself be the girl you cheated with, all because you did something to me that I couldn’t resist. I hate myself because of you... don’t you hate yourself too?
Finally, boy number five, you broke my heart in a totally different way. You needed a friend, and I was there. You trusted me with your secrets, so I made the mistake of trusting you with mine. You became the older brother I’d lost, and you knew that. You made me open up to you somehow... and then you betrayed my trust. The one secret only you knew... you couldn’t keep it to yourself, could you? You ruined my relationship with a lot of people, and you ruined my reputation.
But I forgave you, because that’s what friends do. Right?
After that is when you started abusing me. No punches were thrown, but looking back I think I’d rather have physical scars. You abused me emotionally. You downplayed my pain, you ridiculed me in front of people I respected, you tore me down brick by brick until I was nothing... and then you dared call me almost daily to rant about what you were struggling with. That is, you’d complain about everything I was doing wrong in your life for an hour, and then spend the next two asking for my advice on your own problems. And I listened to it all, and I helped you, but you never noticed me crying on the phone while you talked. Or did you?
As I close out, I know you boys will likely never read this. But if you happen to, I want you to know that, whoever you are in the letter, you hurt me. You hurt me bad. And maybe you’re the reason I cry when that song comes on, or why I can’t sleep at night. But despite all that, please have a good life. Find a good girl and treat her like a queen, because I have full faith that deep down, you can.
Something about the danger of us made everything more exciting... the subtle touches, the quiet moans, the secrets... but people are starting to talk, so now I've got to leave you...
Your breath on my neck as you whispered, those stolen glances and the way our fingers lace together in secret... none of it is right, because we both know you belong to someone else...
Actors is what we are, so that kiss shouldn't have meant a thing. You've got someone and so have I, but someone who's in love with another doesn't kiss with that kind of passion.
His eyes were so piercing and deep, and they made me feel like he knew every part of my soul... who was I to know whether he was thinking the same thing?
