Jun 2014
Dear J,
I don't know why I'm writing to you right now if I was to be honest with myself.
I'm constantly battling between the thoughts if I liked you for who you were or if I liked you for the perfect personality you have.
I know that's a horrible thought.
I feel like a monster admitting that thought in my head.
But you were the first one I ever held hands with.
You held me with such careful arms, you took my hand in yours and called me yours.
You promised to live life with me, you told me you loved me.
And I never repaid it.
Not the way you deserved, to say the least.
The whole time, I thought of someone else, the first person ever to break my heart.
He never quite mended it , and maybe my mistake was thinking he could be the only one that could mend it.
I don't know what I did for you to walk away, maybe the fault was in my unreturned love.
But what if I'm just know figuring out that I really did.
Maybe I don't even care about the expectations I had, or the hurt I held inside because it was you that made those thoughts all go away.
I'm so lost, so hurt, and I would do anything right about now to hear the raspy way your voice said my name when you really had something to say.
Or the way how your whole body moved as you silently laughed which really was music to my ears.
Or how about the way you looked at me when you would tease me about my horrible way of singing or why I wouldn't play the stupid music you wanted to hear on my phone.
My mistake was not realizing the feelings I deeply had for you.
Sometimes I'll just walk in a room and be so sure you were there too by the similar scent, but you're not there.
Sometimes a friend will tell me a joke that will remind me so much about how the way you laughed when I would get suddenly shy at one of your lame pick up lines.
I know things won't ever be able to go back to the way they use to be, but I felt like I needed to write this.
Because if I could choose anything right now, it would be to have you here right now , cradling my hand in your strong one, and holding me in your arms.
I'd have you tell me how beautiful I am to you, and how much I mean to you.
I need that. I miss you. And maybe...maybe I love you.
I don't know why I'm writing to you right now if I was to be honest with myself.
I'm constantly battling between the thoughts if I liked you for who you were or if I liked you for the perfect personality you have.
I know that's a horrible thought.
I feel like a monster admitting that thought in my head.
But you were the first one I ever held hands with.
You held me with such careful arms, you took my hand in yours and called me yours.
You promised to live life with me, you told me you loved me.
And I never repaid it.
Not the way you deserved, to say the least.
The whole time, I thought of someone else, the first person ever to break my heart.
He never quite mended it , and maybe my mistake was thinking he could be the only one that could mend it.
I don't know what I did for you to walk away, maybe the fault was in my unreturned love.
But what if I'm just know figuring out that I really did.
Maybe I don't even care about the expectations I had, or the hurt I held inside because it was you that made those thoughts all go away.
I'm so lost, so hurt, and I would do anything right about now to hear the raspy way your voice said my name when you really had something to say.
Or the way how your whole body moved as you silently laughed which really was music to my ears.
Or how about the way you looked at me when you would tease me about my horrible way of singing or why I wouldn't play the stupid music you wanted to hear on my phone.
My mistake was not realizing the feelings I deeply had for you.
Sometimes I'll just walk in a room and be so sure you were there too by the similar scent, but you're not there.
Sometimes a friend will tell me a joke that will remind me so much about how the way you laughed when I would get suddenly shy at one of your lame pick up lines.
I know things won't ever be able to go back to the way they use to be, but I felt like I needed to write this.
Because if I could choose anything right now, it would be to have you here right now , cradling my hand in your strong one, and holding me in your arms.
I'd have you tell me how beautiful I am to you, and how much I mean to you.
I need that. I miss you. And maybe...maybe I love you.
suppose to be a poem about life but whoops.
