I have never met you and yet here I am. I thought you were just this easygoing Christian boy who does karate and then you told me your dark secrets. I swear that I will fold them up and keep them safe. I remember you singing the first day we met and I knew, I was screwed. You even said you’ve never talked to anyone for that long. It’s been a while since someone sent me good morning texts and called me for hours. I loved how you fill up the silence with your sing song voice, your made up sound effects and how you calculate out loud. But you were taken and my heart was stubborn. I tried to be your friend, I swear, whilst trying to push you away from my bad intentions to take you away. I reasoned with myself, saying you’re just a friend, you’re just a friend, you’re just a friend...I’m just a friend. Then this messy game started.
Strike one: I told you I liked you and for obvious reasons, you said you don’t. You even told me I was brave, hah, don’t say that to the next girl you’re gonna reject. I should’ve walked away to save myself from the future pain. But the thing is, I’m a screw it and just do it person.
Strike two: You told me you like me. I should have asked as a what. I misunderstood but I wanted it to be real at the same time. And once again, you put down my feelings at 4:42 a.m.. But I let it go, not wanting to let you know that in a span of one month, you could affect me this much. Was there even a possibility of us?
Did you notice that tinge of happiness when I heard you broke up with her? Did you feel that little matchstick of hope lighting up within me? And it grew, through every laugh I had with you. Do you know your eyes would crinkle when you smile? I never thought I’d love the sound of you breathing while you sleep. You told me you felt safe with me. I think I felt safer with you. I showed you me. I told you things I couldn’t tell anyone. I know I fall in love easy but that’s me. I even thought maybe, just maybe, we could work this out. You and me. Meet somehow. Be something.
But strike three: You got back together. Why was it hard for you tell me? Were you starting to feel something? Or were you just afraid to lose a friend? Afraid that I’d act up again and push you away. I wanted to ask you to let me go. I wanted to tell you it was selfish of you to ask me to stay when you chose her. You never liked me. I was never a choice. Did you think I was that strong? Did you think I didn’t cry after I smiled and laughed and told you, “That’s good news.” The matchstick went out and everything crumbled. I tried to lash out on you, to let you know what I felt. I was playing a game and losing badly at it. And at the end of day, I realized my feelings were just a burden for you. It could have all worked out if I had thrown my feelings aside and be that perfect friend. But I was cruel and I was used up. And as I made up my mind to walk away, you were already one foot out the door. You were cutting the one excuse I have, to talk to you, to get back to you, to maybe wait for you to change your mind.
And I am sad. And I am angry. That I am writing this letter that you will never read. That you made me think we’ll meet someday but I guess not. I am angry because in this story, I’m going to be the one trying to move on again, wearing you like a wine stained shirt until I can throw you away. Maybe I’m really the one you should be calling dummy, dummy.
