All I wanted was love, but I swore I’d never ask because it doesn’t count if you force it. So at the start, I brought you cookies and sat beside you in every class, chattering endlessly. I wrote you letters, and made tiny watercolor paintings of your face. I didn’t think it would work, but I guess I was so good at falling in love that you thought you were too.
But then, just because ‘I love you’s are exchanged doesn’t mean the feelings are the same, and when you started taking longer to reply and were barely by my side, I began to wonder. So I went further—bought you only the most expensive presents, gifted you even the parts of myself I’d been saving. Who could blame me if I just longed to make you happy, and thought that meant giving you everything you asked for and wanted?
Towards the end, I realized you wanted more than I could ever give because you looked for it in someone else. But like a fool, I still loved you. Am I not nice and sweet, not right or enough for you? Here I am, still begging. Who else would have forgiven you? Who else would have needed you that much, wanted so badly to be with you? I deserve to be loved back.
But you know what? If even now, you’re still not sure about your feelings, then just admit you don’t love me. Let’s leave it at that. Even if I plead and cry, don’t let me force you. Love isn’t supposed to need convincing. Just because I want you, love you doesn’t mean I don’t deserve better. And it doesn’t mean you can love me. It doesn’t mean you’re supposed to.
We were supposed to write a one-minute speech for school, with the topic: “Why you should love me back.” I hid my face in my hands and sighed. I didn’t want to write about you but there’s never anyone else on my mind. I sometimes think I know no other words but these. They might not be easy, but they’re all I have.
