Dear You,

                I thought about you again today. It’s kind of funny, in a painful way, that I never could have believed myself capable of having my thoughts so full of a boy. And me of all people. Every moment I have free, and even those I don’t, every single moment I seem to spend thinking of you, even if in passing. It isn’t fair, really. It hurts, and presses on me, inside my chest somewhere, and makes me feel anxious.

                I don’t see you every day, which is a good thing, I guess, though I would like to see you more. Still, I think if we went to the same school, it would become unbearable. For me, at least. I don’t know about you – you always have been hard to read. I guess I see you enough... You know, living in such a small town has its perks.

                There was one time today I managed to forget about you for a merciful half-hour. In physics, we were allowed to fill balloons with helium and tie them to strings after our lesson was finished. Needless to say, as one of three girls in a classroom of helium-breathing, balloon-launching, static-shocked boys, I had fun. I laughed, and forgot, and the weight went away. But then you had to come back to me, descending on my mind like a leaky balloon. I feel strangled and choked.

                You don’t know about it, I guess, and I can certainly never tell you. My closest friends know, naturally; I can’t hide anything from them, but it stays in the art room, and never leaves except when it’s (and by ‘it’ I mean you) trapped in my mind. Or trapping me, rather. They say I have a chance, and I should try, but I’m sure I can’t make myself do it. You deserve better.

                Anyway, I’ll see you in my dreams (yeah, you’re in those, too).

Sincerely, Me

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This one's made up. They don't have to be complaint letters, just hopefully glib, smug, sarcastic, insulting...ore perhaps sweet and gracious, just not angry...anger's a bore.

updated May 28, 2009 by smac972