For once I would like to be longed for. I have spent countless hours of my life yearning for love from people who did not know how to accept mine. I have been told time and time again that not everybody will understand the way I love. Not everyone holds their hearts in the same regard as I do so they do not know how to return my love back to me. Over time I started confessing my love in front of mirrors, my reflection both the sender and the recipient of my love letters.

For once I would like to be the girl you dream about. I want to be on the receiving end of smiles from bubbly girls. I long to be the one to make brooding boys laugh. I am the only one writing poems about strangers I see in the streets. I make playlists for my best friend to tell her I love her but never send them. My love has been rejected too many times to take chances. I have accepted that maybe I’m only meant to dish out love like donations. My heart is spare change in empty coffee cups on busy city sidewalks.

For once I would like to be loved. Not just liked. Not just a fling or a fleeting thought or another notch on another persons bedpost. I want someone to think of me in the same way I think of them. I want someone to look at me and see a spark. A possibility. A future that’s worth working for. I would like to be on the receiving end of goodnight texts sent long after I’ve already fallen asleep, so when morning comes I can know I’m on someone’s mind even when I’m not present. Maybe someday I’ll be the girl you hear about in love songs but for now I’ll keep writing love letters I never send. Spilled ink will never hurt as deeply as watching someone you love not love you back.