I’m the little girl with the bad front bangs and striped knee high socks from kindergarten who was your first friend. I’m the little girl who was your spelling partner in first grade. I’m the little girl who walked you to the office when you skinned your knee in second grade. I’m the girl who tied your shoes in third grade, because you still couldn’t. I’m the girl who didn’t laugh at your braces in fourth grade. I’m the girl who almost confessed her ‘love’ to you during the pilgrim project in fifth grade. I’m the girl who introduced you to my best friend, and watched you like her instead of me in sixth grade. I’m the girl who listened to all of your problems and never made fun of you in junior high. I’m the girl who is still dragged to your family’s parties and sits in the corner and reads. I’ve known you for twelve years. I’m the girl that pathetically and unreasonably loves you. I’m the girl who’s pretty sure you’ve forgotten exists.
I’d like to say I’m sorry. Sorry to all the women out there who have gotten their hearts trampled on. Sorry to the women who feel as though the only way to get men’s attention is to act in ways that are not very you. Sorry to the ones that suffered through the pain of dealing with your cowardly love finding ‘love’ somewhere else. I’m sorry for the way you’ve been treated, the way you’ve been used, and the way you’ve been thrown away like you don’t mean much.
Truth is, you do mean much. You mean a lot. Not just to me, but to the whole world. Look at yourself. Your smile, the way you’re so focused on this right now. You are so beautiful. You really are. And you have a big, warm heart that deserves only the finest of men. Or women. Hey, I don’t judge.
Open that heart to only those who deserve it, and learn to protect your heart from those who don’t. I know you’re beauty, and I know your strength. Keep hanging on, okay? Some of us really are good. You just have to sift through the pain, keep believing and find your way.
I suck at displaying my emotions with you. I do. And I hate it.
So here. (I’ll work on the in person thing.)
You know when you have a really really great dream, and you’re super happy, and then you kinda wake up halfway, and drift back off to sleep, hoping to keep the dream? You know the feeling when you get that awesome dream back immediately and continue with it? Yeah. That feeling.
When you have to take a walk, run or bike ride somewhere and the sun is shining, and it’s warm, but not too hot, and the grass is really green and the bees are buzzing? That happiness.
When it’s a cool night, and there is a huge storm brewing outside, and thunder clangs, and you snuggle deep down in the warm covers? That safeness.
When you’re in a crowded place, and you smile at a little kid, and their face lights up and they get a huge grin? THAT.
I want to find out who you are behind that smile of yours. I want to push away your hand that’s covering your face, and hold it tight. I want to run my fingers through you hair, and see the blush creep onto your face. I want to be there when you spill your feelings, your thoughts, your opinions.
I’m not saying I like you. But then again, I am on this site, writing a “letter to a crush.”
To the girl at the table near the back of the library -
I almost asked you what was wrong the first time I saw you crying. Then I saw the book you were reading, and realized that you were crying because of it. And I was interested, because I’d never read anything that moved me that much.
I checked out the book you were reading, and guess what? I cried - just a little - too. That’s how it started. Every time I go to the library, you’re almost always there, usually with a completely new book. Sometimes you smile, or laugh out loud, or cry again, and when you do, I check out the book you’re reading.
That was it, really, until I realized how gorgeous you are. You’re not pretty in the normal kind of way, but god, when you smile, it lights up your face in the best way.
I wish you’d notice me, sitting a few tables away from you, reading the book you were reading a few days ago. I wish you’d smile at me. I don’t have the guts to talk to you. I’m afraid you won’t be anything at all like I imagine.
One of these days, I’ll work up the courage and I’ll ask you about what you’re reading. And maybe you’ll smile that gorgeous smile and tell me all about it, and then we’ll talk about all the books we’ve read. But until then, thank you for the book recommendations. I love them.
I have seen young people, drunk with possibility, with opportunity, sit restless and anxious, nervously wandering for each other. I have seen the underarm sweat of people late for this, late for that to there for them or who or her, thumping out messages while stooped over cell phones. I have seen cold coffee collect in the bottom of mugs, bequeathed to vacant chairs or empty stares and swell sighs at the unwavering Exit.
I have felt the grief of waiting and heard dripping anticipation.
Waiting: for twelve years. Waiting: for twelve years, in the same little coffee place. Waiting: for twelve years, in the same little coffee place, serving the same drinks to different people, for twelve years.
Finding: And on a Wednesday evening between a connection flight a blue-haired girl with doe eyes asks for my name.
i have never talked to her more than once or twice and never about anything of substance, never made an attempt. as my senior year of high school comes to a close i regret being such a lovesick idiot of a boy and not having the guts to say anything to the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. she’s only a sophomore, but her wit is sharp and she knows what she wants in life…which is so admirable.
jeeze there are so many things i wish i could say to her right this second
i mean, conclusively, i am terrified to talk to her for the fear that i’ll screw something up…but I’m going to do it anyway
so i guess the only thing worth saying here is that Emily, I think love you
I was certainly in love with you for several years when everything you did was perfect and lovely to me. I’m probably never going to see you again, and I’ve grown to be as content as I can with that fact. However, I feel like in the time that we were friends, I forgot to tell you the most important thing:
No matter how far apart we are, regardless of whether or not we ever speak again, I won’t ever forget you. You taught me more about friendship and love and life in the time we had together than I will probably ever learn on my own. For the rest of your life and mine, I love you. You’re on your way to a life of success and happiness. I can only hope that every once in a while, you’ll think of me because I will always be thinking of you.
I don’t think I would ever be able to thank you enough.
i wish this were a movie and we saw each other across a room and fell in love and you killed dragons for me and i fought off evil stepmoms for you. i wish i was a disney princess with no doubt about my feelings and you were a disney prince and that this would all end with us kissing in front of a sunset to an oscar winning soundtrack.
but life’s not animated, and we don’t have a soundtrack, and nothing’s finished after an hour and a half.
why does life always color outside the lines?
3D isn’t all its cracked up to be, i’d take a VCR life with you any day.
Being tall must be pretty cool - you can easily grab things off of high shelves at the grocery store and you can probably play basketball pretty well. However, it’s going to make my attempt to kiss you so much harder.
i’ll tell you what the end of the world will be like.
it will be a final moment, both terrible and heartbreaking. absolute chaos. people running as fast as they ever have, cars filling every road and freeway, phone lines backed up trying to process millions of calls, fingers flying over keyboards, thumbs texting like rapid fire, long lines of people trying to cram themselves into subways and airplanes. all of them trying to tell someone else,
"i love you."
it’s not the end of the world yet, but don’t wait until then to tell them. the worst thing isn’t the end of the world. it’s what you didn’t finish - what you didn’t say when you had the chance.
The way you dance in the middle of the hallways, the way you walk into doors, the way drop almost everything you touch, the way you blush all the time, the way you drum on the computer when you hear one of those old rock songs, the way you always say the weirdest things, the way you still think star wars is a cool thing, the way you know everything but still remain so clueless, the way you let your hair fall in your beautiful face, the way you burst into a song in the middle of a class, the way you see life as nothing but a beautiful thing.
These things up there, are just a small amount of all the things I love about you.