You know when you go to the pet store and there are haughty self-righteous fish swimming around in the tank, and there’s one dorky sweet looking one in the corner? Yeah, I know there’s other fish in the sea, but there’s only one of you. You’re that fish in the corner and I don’t want any other damn fish, I just want you.
to anyone whose ever written a letter. to anyone whose ever gotten a response, and to anyone who hasn’t -
you deserve all the love you’re looking for, and more. trust me. i might not know you, but i understand you.
every time i read a letter, i wonder why we all feel the way we do. and then i remember - that moment when you find love, be it hearing three words, getting your first kiss, or just seeing them smile back at you, it’s worth it.
every moment of doubt, of pain, of anxiousness. every tear, every scream, every restless night.
i’m that one guy. ‘tall boy.’ i want you to know i did it. i told her how i felt. we were drinking orange juice. and eating blueberry scones in my kitchen. we were going to my cousin’s wedding that day.
she looked gorgeous.
i was a nervous mess.
but i did it.
like i said i would.
this is a letter to all those other guys who are cowards. get over yourself. for once in your life be a fool. i dare you. i dare you to tell her how you feel. i dare you to say ‘i love you.’
and let me let you in on a secret,
IT WILL BE WORTH IT.
chances are, that girl feels the same way.
and 100 fake breakfast dates with her in your kitchen are not nearly the same as actually holding her hand.
and if that’s not enough, her hair smells like lilacs.
seeing you this morning was like being on cloud 9. i’ve missed you so much. when am i going to stop being so stupid and just come right out and say i love you while we’re flipping pancakes? i’m tired of being afraid. i’m tired of being introduced as your ‘best friend.’ change that to ‘boyfriend’ and next time we can have waffles instead of pancakes.
because you like waffles better.
i almost told you how i felt this morning. you were drinking pineapple juice and doing the dishes. instead i just asked you to be my date for my cousin’s wedding. of course you said yes. of course you don’t think it’s a real date. and of course i ruined the moment by telling some cheesy joke about dishwater and politics.
but you laughed.
so it was worth it.
breakfast tomorrow will be different. i promise. i’ll stop being a coward. I WILL BE BRAVE. and i will ask you out. for real. i won’t write you silly letters on this website. i will write real letters. and i’ll leave them in your coffee mug. because i’m not satisfied anymore. i’m not. i’m not. i’m not.
i want to be more to you than what i am.
i love you. you’re my best friend. you’ve been my best friend since we were 15 years old. i love all of you. i love the way you don’t mind my crazy bed-head in the mornings when you come over. or how you say “photograph” wrong. the pretty little mole on your left wrist. i love that you always wear your slippers to the grocery store. i love that you know what i’m thinking.
i love you.
i want to marry you.
i decided that the moment i met you in high school. i decided you would be my wife. and eating breakfast with you as friends for the past 7 years has made me want that even more.
but first i just have to ask you out for real.
i feel like throwing up.
i can’t even imagine proposing to you.
i need to take this one step at a time. i need to learn not to joke at important conversation points. like discussions over dating.
and i need to find something to wear to that wedding tomorrow.
i like the idea that somewhere, you’re hiding my love! sometimes, i imagine that we’re doing the same mundane things at the same time…waiting as the time counts down until the day that we finally meet.
i dont care that you like milk instead of water. or that you cheat in every chess game. doesnt really matter to me that you suck at spanish, cant play soccer for your life, or think babies are ugly. I don’t even notice your bad hairdays anymore. I think its funny when you knock stuff over. And i know you’ve bounced from school to school to school this year, and that your mom puts her glass of wine before you. I like that your number has three consecutive 9s in it. And that you know more asian history then american. I like that you don’t complement yourself. You don’t scream when your scared. Your ears aren’t pierced, your nails aren’t painted. Skirts make you look shorter. I can use you as my arm rest.
you are everything i want, not everything i need. i love you leslie. now take it and run like i know you will.
I thought it was cute when you told me you liked my socks. What’s funny is that I wasn’t wearing any. I think you were too nervous to notice. Please talk to me again, I’d love to talk about socks with you.
It isn’t right for me to paint your picture every night, but I do. And it feels so wrong to sing this song into this song, But maybe somehow you’ll hear me and hum along.
Maybe I’ll be kidnapped by pirates and they’d take me to their hideout as pirates often do. But you’d find the secret map and vigilante-bushwhack through the jungles of Peru just to save me. Then you’d take me north to Mexico, where I’d tell you my life story on the steps of a Mayan temple. Where we’d camp, singing nonsense song in twelve bars to the jaguars. Then you’d sense me, your eyes convincing, and you’d kiss me like a hero in the half-light. Dryer sheets and peach shampoo, with the smell of palm leaves, I’d sleep against you until the natives found us, and they’d crown us king and queen. We could stay there. We could spend our days there, eating guava by the sea. I would understand your views and you would fall in love with me.
And while the silly human race talks to droids in outer space, we’d grow old and laugh about this song. And between the jungle and the stars, you’d sing nonsense songs in twelve bars to me. And in my sleep I’d hum along.
im a hopeless romantic. im also kind of a shy guy. i think im in love, but im too scared to tell her. and all the time that goes by when im not with her makes me think and wonder about whats going on in her life. it hurts when i miss her. but your letters. your beautiful letters. they really help, and i thank you for them.
i think you are beautiful. i wish i could talk to you. all i can do is stare, but i see you stare back and that’s all it takes to complete my day. i know i must have hurt you when i moved away this year. i’m sorry, i had to. i then decided to make a facebook, but i was too afraid to add you, but i’m really glad you added me. i try to play sports to get you off my mind, but it never works. but it’s okay, because every time we have a tournament i pretend you’re in the crowd cheering me on. i hope and pray that we can see each other again. i miss you so much.