r/LoveLetters

If somebody had told me how much you'd end up meaning to me, I would have never believed them.

It started slowly, the instant click, the looking forward to seeing you the next time, and the time after that, then the slow burn that became a full roaring fire.

It was the way you made me laugh like nobody else. Like I'd been transported back in time, laughing like a carefree child. Your sharp wit, cutting through all the refined versions of me and leaving the very core of my essence. Nobody else gets that and they haven't since.

With you, I want to become better. To be the one that you deserve, the one that wins all of your affection. To be the one that feels like a porch light in your darkest night. The one you call home. Because that's what I feel when I'm with you. With you, I feel like I could become all of my unrealised potential, superior, god-like just by association.  A version of me so complete and fulfilled that it brings out the best in you too.

And that's what I see, when you look at me with those blue, captivating eyes. You look at me like I hold the world in my hands and, somehow, as though you trust me with it too. I can't  even look away because I see all the beauty in you, reflecting the beauty in me.

Maybe that's what it means to truly love. To look at somebody and know that there's nobody else you'd rather be with, right in that moment. To know from a single gaze that they're with you. That they truly see you and they'd do anything to see you win. 

Everyone wants her , so it seems

Then tell me why she's alone

Every one that's ever held her let her go

Left scar's on an already broken heart

Words of past things echo in the dark

No one seems to care about the weight she carries

Need someone to blame she just might be your lady

Even if she hits rock bottom, she doesn't stay

On the lips of villains , that whisper I love you

Maybe one day , maybe she will see that someone

Can hold her brokenness and accept that she needs peace

Maybe one day someone will actually stay.....hold not just her hand

But her, the way she needed to be

If you lost her ....what a shame

Cause you will never find a lover to love you the same!!!

I am accustomed to the quiet architecture of my own isolation. I built it up to be that way.

The world sees the stark contrast of pale skin and black hair; they recognize a sharp mind, and they assume the distance I keep is effortless. I'm helpful, knowledgeable, won't gatekeep....but somehow untouchable, in a league of my own.

In truth, beneath this composed surface is a chaotic, restless need to step into the wreckage of others, and to play the savior. I'm always restless. Call me adhd 🤙

...And then, I look at you.

You exist in the soft margins of our shared spaces during the weekdays, always respectful and by the book. Always kind, fair.

There is something equally dangerous in genuine goodness. (I imagine it tastes divine.)

You have no idea that your simple presence, has become the only calm in my endless noise. You are the one exception to the way I move through this life.

You do not need to be saved, managed, or fixed. You only need to be known.

And for the first time, I find myself longing to lay down my armor, step out of the chaos, and simply be the one who knows you, and gets lost in the calm blue of your eyes.

-another mislabeled human in their 30s

Trust me when I tell you that I want to be the first—
the first one to lay my eyes on you when you fall asleep,
when the light slowly removes itself from your skin
and dresses you in a dark robe.

The first one to witness the sun shine in your eyes,
giving them the most beautiful colors I have ever seen.

The first one to be guided by your voice
out of this conscious death.

I don’t wake by the sun or the song of birds,
but when I feel your warmth upon my cheek,

that’s when I know the world
has pushed you out of your heavenly rest.

Like a moth to a flame

‎ Maybe it was the fire,

‎ Maybe it was the vibe,

But looking at the burning flame, made me think of you.

It’s strange, isn't it?

‎ I’ve loved the glow of embers long before I knew you.

‎How it shines brightly,

‎How glowing embers fall like stars from the sky,

‎how it consumes everything it dares to touch.

‎But mostly,

‎ How it keeps me warm.

‎Maybe that’s the why I fell for you.

‎The way you shine,

‎The way you leave fragments of yourself behind every room,

‎And the haunting certainty that if I drew too close,

‎ I would incinerate the very air between us.

‎If I reach out, I know I’ll get hurt

‎But if I rush in, I fear I’ll stifle your light and ruin the ground we stand on.

‎So, to save myself from the burn and you from being extinguished,

‎ I chose to stay afar.

‎But just like a moth,

‎I don't think I can stop myself from going near you

I feel like I’m constantly looking for my next hit of you. Every simple text, every small detail. I thought you would start to drift but you seem to linger on in my head. I get the highs and lows like a comedown off you. I don’t think you’ll ever really know what this feels like.. or maybe you do, you just won’t ever tell.

To the one I desire most,

You are absolutely wonderful. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it in some way. I know what way I want that to be, but it’s not entirely my decision is it?

And yet, I know standing where I am brings its own risk. If it hasn’t happened already, I could entirely miss this. But if I move, I could lose it entirely. I need to map this out.

I have in front of me three options: Stay. Say. Leave.

1. ⁠Stay- I could keep this up forever. It’s tearing me up, and every day is a different feeling than the last. The human psyche was not built for this. But my worry is not breaking. My worry is that waiting for something to happen means forfeiting any control of the outcome. Whatever comes next will lack my fingerprints yet it will impact me all the same. And maybe you’ll be left to wonder: why didn’t he do something?
2. Say- I finally tell you everything, the whole truth and nothing but. I tell you you’re not just one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, but you ARE the most amazing. That I can’t stop thinking about you and never want to stop. That your beauty is beyond the words humans have been creating since the time of stone tablets. That I get lost looking into your eyes because they are like galaxies full of the brightest stars and I cannot help but gaze in complete wonder. That I know the path ahead would be rough, but I would endure the journey as the Odysseus to your Penelope. And I could string that bow. I truly believe if things were different, we could make it. We’re great together. I would bask in the warmth of knowing I could spend every day of my life striving to make you happy, to make you proud of me. But that’s the thing: if I told you this, would you actually be proud? Or would you recoil knowing that I have been enduring this lie of omission for so long?
3. Leave- I don’t think I could choose this option and live. At least I would no longer be the man you know now. I couldn’t be. It would require me to rewire my brain, draw the neurons like the roots of a tree as it seeks to grow past and around. I have done this before. It would feel like the worst breakup imaginable, even if that’s not what it would be. I would become a fish un-learning to swim, a bird forgetting how to fly, or an ant leaving its colony by its own volition. Feeling this for you is so natural. My instincts would be shouting at me to do something that my body could not perform. My soul would implode in on itself and be forced to endure the abyss. And yet at the end, would I emerge better? I would know the outcome. It would be something I could hold, study, and figure out. The map for the rest of my life would appear before me on the page.

Maybe there’s no good choice here. Maybe there is one and the only way I choose it is to guess, like the world’s worst lottery. But one of these options must be the way forward. At this point, there is no going back.

I don't know if this belongs here. Maybe I'm writing it because I need someone to know what happened. Maybe because if I don't put these words somewhere, they'll stay inside me forever. Or maybe there's something strangely comforting about telling the truth to thousands of strangers who don't know your name.

So here it is.

I was in love with my best friend. Not the kind people joke about — not the "haha, imagine if we dated" kind. The kind where, somewhere along the way, you stop imagining a future and start remembering it, the way you remember something that actually happened.

I could see it clearly. Her beside me at breakfast, stealing the blanket at night, complaining that I'd left the cabinet open again. Me, pretending to be annoyed when she stole food off my plate. A small house. Two ugly mugs by the sink that we'd bought as a joke and kept anyway. Maybe a dog. Maybe kids. Maybe just us. I never needed anything extraordinary. I just wanted to come home to her.

The worst part was that she knew I loved her — just not in the way I wanted her to. She loved me too. She called me her best friend, her safe place, the person she could call at three in the morning, the one she trusted with every secret she had. I treasured every word, even as each one quietly buried the future I wanted.

She'd tell me about the people she liked. I'd listen. I'd give advice. I'd tell her whether I thought some guy deserved her. And every time she smiled talking about someone else, I smiled too — because that's what best friends do. They want each other happy, even when the happiness isn't standing beside them.

Years passed like that. I got very good at loving her silently.

Then one night we were sitting outside, talking about nothing, and she asked me something I'll never forget.

"Do you ever think we'll still be like this when we're old?"

I laughed. "Probably. You'll still be annoying."

She laughed too, and leaned her head against my shoulder. For one stupid second I let myself imagine it — us, old, still laughing about nothing. I almost told her everything. That I'd spent years loving her. That I'd wanted to marry her. That every woman I'd ever met had been measured against a standard she never knew she'd set. That I'd already chosen her in a future she'd never agreed to.

Then she said, "I hope whoever you marry knows how lucky she is."

And something in me went quiet, because I finally understood: she didn't know. Maybe she never would.

The next morning I decided to leave. Not dramatically — no goodbye party, no confrontation, no confession built to make her feel guilty. I didn't want my love to become a weight she had to carry. So I started disappearing in small ways. I answered slower. I stopped showing up. I packed my things and made arrangements somewhere far enough that running into her by accident would be almost impossible.

She noticed, of course. She was my best friend.

"What's wrong?" I'm tired.

"Did I do something?" No.

"Are you leaving?" For a while.

She looked hurt, and that almost made me stay. But I knew that if I did, I'd spend my life standing beside the person I loved while pretending I didn't want more. Not because she owed me anything — she didn't. Not because she'd done something wrong — she hadn't. Just because I finally understood that you can love someone completely and still have no place in their future.

The night before I left, I went to her house. She wasn't home. I still had a key. I sat on the couch where we'd spent hundreds of nights talking, and looked around at the photographs on her walls — birthdays, trips, Christmases, the accidental ones where neither of us was looking at the camera. Our whole friendship, scattered across the room like it belonged to someone else now.

I cried that night. Not because I hated her, and not because I regretted loving her — but because I finally had to accept that the life I wanted with her had only ever existed in my head.

Before I left, I put a letter on the table, and under it, a poem. The last thing I ever wrote her.

What the Universe Would Not Let Me Keep

I loved you in the quietest way a heart can love —

without asking the stars to rearrange themselves,

without bargaining with God,

without demanding fate make a mistake just once.

I loved you knowing there were doors in your life

that were never meant to open for me,

and still some foolish part of me kept standing outside them,

holding flowers no one would receive.

You were never mine. Maybe that's what makes it hurt.

If I'd lost you after having you, I could blame the ending.

But how do you mourn something you were never allowed to call yours?

I've imagined a thousand lives with you.

In some, we grow old under the same roof.

In others, we wake beside each other and complain about the morning light.

In every one, I love you —

and in every one, the universe reminds me it was only a dream.

So I stopped asking for you.

Not because I stopped wanting you,

but because real love isn't always the courage to reach out.

Sometimes it's the courage to open your hands.

I want you happy, even if your happiness has someone else's name beside it.

I want you loved, even if I'm not close enough to hear you laugh.

I want someone to memorize the things about you I spent so long noticing,

to hold you on the days you feel impossible to hold —

and if they love you well, I'll try not to hate them

for living the life I once wished was mine.

That's the tragedy of loving someone without conditions:

I would rather see you cherished by someone else

than possessed by me and unhappy.

So take every piece of tomorrow that was never meant to have my name on it.

Take the future I secretly wrote for us.

Take the version of me that believed wanting something enough could make it stay.

I'll keep none of it. Except you —

not as a possession, not as a promise,

not as some unfinished story I spend my life waiting to complete,

but as proof that my heart could love someone without needing anything back.

Someday, when the wound no longer feels like a wound,

I'll look up and understand:

the universe didn't keep us apart because I was unworthy.

It simply knew that some people are meant to be loved, not kept.

And if loving you means watching you become happy somewhere I can't follow,

then let the heavens have their victory.

I loved you. I still do.

And I'll love you without asking you to turn around —

because if the only way I can love you forever is from a distance,

then distance will have to become my definition of forever.

I left before sunrise. Changed my number. Moved somewhere she couldn't easily find me. For a long time I wondered if leaving had been cruel.

Then, years later, an old friend told me she was happy. Married. A family. Doing well.

And strangely, I smiled. Once, I'd wanted desperately to be the man standing beside her. But somewhere along the way my love grew bigger than that. I didn't need to be her husband for my love to have been real. I didn't need her to choose me for it to have counted.

She was my best friend. She was the woman I wanted to marry. She was the greatest almost of my life — beautiful, devastating, impossible.

I don't know where that letter is now. Maybe she threw it away. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she read the poem once and never understood why I disappeared after. That's all right. It was never meant to make her love me. It was only meant to say goodbye to the future I'd spent years loving.

I don't regret loving her. I only regret waiting so long to understand something simple: sometimes the purest way to love someone is to stop asking the universe to make them yours.

So I left — not because I stopped loving her, but because I loved her enough to let her live a life that didn't include me.

Somewhere under another sky, I hope she's laughing. I hope someone holds her hand when she's afraid, remembers how she takes her coffee, tells her she's beautiful on the days she doesn't believe it. I hope she gets everything I once wanted to give her.

And if the universe is listening — I don't need her back. I've already asked it for enough.

It said no.

This time, I'll listen.

Hi love, I miss you. I miss you in ways I can only describe in my mind. You are so wonderful and sweet. Your eyes that shine like emeralds, cheeks full of blush and warmth, the ears with mesmerizing gold, lips so beautiful that I could kiss forever. I miss our times where we could talk forever with no track of time, and how addicting it was to look at you and not even blink. I bet we lost a bit of that. But I still yearn for a day to see you again in that dress and glistens with gold. I love you. I always am the weirdo for you, and always be there when you need me. I hope the distance doesn’t ruin us.

Please tell me what you guys think

I think there must be something wrong with me, because from the moment we started talking I felt like I was finally home.

From the moment we spoke.

Do you know, i haven't forgotten? The days we talked online before meeting in person... the excitement and happiness I felt waking up knowing i'd get to talk to you...

Then when I met you, I knew you were the one.

How can I even explain that to people? I'm grateful for the hundreds and hundreds of days I got to see you afterward, but darn, wish it was thousands. No, zillions. Infinite time with you.

I know one day we will be in each others company, but can we start that now?

Everyday without you feels strange. And it's been over a year. Yet, you're still on my mind and heart as soon as I wake up and as soon as I go to bed.

I love you, and miss you, these are the words i'm too scared to say. (Atleast, some of them).❤️

To throw up. True fking nightmare.

Never did I have on my bingo card, she betrays you in the most childish way possible for a reason born from her fundamental misunderstanding about how relationships work.

Imagine seriously losing the love of your life because she was literally led by stupidity to believe the wrong thing.

Now imagine that it were impossible to love anyone else. But like not hyperbolically no, you literally couldn't because of a legit health reason.

Welcome to my hell.

​

There are some things I’ve been carrying quietly since I told you how I feel, and I think I need to put them into words—not because I’m asking anything of you, but because I want you to understand why I said what I said.

When you told me what you did, something in me felt as though the stars had briefly fallen into alignment. I couldn’t bear the thought of you walking away from that moment believing the things you’ve sometimes believed about yourself—that you are difficult to love, that you are somehow unworthy of being chosen, or that love is something you have to earn.

How could I know how I feel about you and keep that from you?

I wanted you to know that there is someone in this world who sees you and loves you simply for being you. Not because of what you can give me. Not because I expect something in return. Not because I need you to become anything different. Just you. As you are.

I know talking about feelings isn't easy for you, and I never expected some grand conversation or declaration in return. I wasn't asking you to answer me. I wasn't asking you to change anything between us. I thought, perhaps naively, that I could simply tell you the truth of my heart and let it rest there.

And maybe that's why I'm struggling a little now.

Things feel different. A little less soft somehow. A little more careful. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe your life has simply been chaotic, and the timing of my confession couldn't have been worse. I don't know. And I don't want to mistake your silence for something it isn't.

So I'm not asking you to explain yourself to me. I'm not asking you to reassure me. I respect your silence, and I respect whatever you are carrying right now. If you're not in a place where you can talk about any of this, I understand.

But I would be lying if I said I haven't wondered whether telling you was a mistake.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have kept it tucked away somewhere inside me indefinitely. If I somehow took this unnamed, beautiful thing we have and placed too much weight upon it simply by giving my feelings a name.

I hope I didn't.

Because I can't regret loving you. I can only regret that telling you may have made something that felt effortless suddenly feel complicated.

And I don't want to change gears. I don't want to pick up speed. I don't want to push this toward some destination it was never ready to reach. I don't need a promise, a decision, or a definition. I don't need you to suddenly make room in your life for something you aren't ready for.

I just want to keep being here.

Patiently. Gently. Without asking you to move any faster than you want to move.

The truth is, I don't know how you feel about me. And there is a quiet sadness in accepting that you may never feel what I feel. I won't pretend that wouldn't hurt. It would. But loving you was never supposed to be a transaction where I give you my heart and wait for yours in return.

If you don't love me the way I love you, then I will have to learn how to live with that truth.

But I won't turn my love into resentment simply because it wasn't returned.

I think that's part of what it means to love someone freely.

And more than anything, I want you to be happy.

I know I only know the pieces of your life you've chosen to share with me. I would never presume to understand everything happening behind the scenes, or tell you what you should do with your life. But I hear you when you tell me that you're unhappy. I hear how deeply you've wanted something different. And it breaks my heart to imagine you remaining somewhere that makes you feel small or unloved simply because leaving feels impossible.

You deserve your dream.

You deserve peace.

You deserve to wake up one day and realize that the life you're living is one you actually want.

And if I'm not part of that life, then I'll have to make peace with that too.

I mean that.

I would rather see you happy from a distance than have you stay miserable just to keep me close.

That doesn't mean I'm giving up on you. It doesn't mean I'm walking away. It means that whatever happens, I want your happiness to matter more to me than my own desire to have you.

That's what I mean when I say I choose you.

I don't mean I choose you only if you choose me back.

I mean I choose you as a person. I choose your happiness. Your freedom. Your right to find the life and love that make you feel alive. Even if someday that means I have to love you from farther away than I want to.

And yes, some part of me is still holding on to hope.

Not demanding hope. Not chasing it. Just holding it gently in my hands.

Because I don't know what this is. I don't know where it goes. Maybe it has an expiration date. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe someday we'll look back on this strange little chapter of our lives and understand what it was meant to be.

I only know that I don't want to rush it toward an ending simply because I'm afraid of one.

So if things feel different because you need space, I'll give you space.

If life is simply overwhelming you right now, I'll understand.

If you don't know what to say, you don't have to find the words.

And if you don't feel the same way about me, I will eventually learn how to accept that without asking you to carry the weight of my disappointment.

But please don't mistake my willingness to accept whatever comes next for a lack of feeling.

I love you.

Quietly. Completely. Without conditions.

And I still think you are extraordinary, even on the days you can't see it yourself.

You don't have to give me anything for that love to be real.

You don't even have to answer this.

I just needed you to know that telling you wasn't me asking you to change our story.

It was simply me refusing to let someone I love go on believing that she is unlovable.

Whatever happens from here, I am grateful I got to know you.

And for as long as you'll have me, I'll be here—without pushing, without pulling, without asking you to run toward me.

Just here.

Still caring.

Still choosing you.

Still quietly hoping that somewhere down the road, our paths might lead to the same place.

And if they don't, I hope yours leads somewhere beautiful.

You deserve nothing less.

~Me

So I will say them here instead.

It wasn’t just young puppy love to me… it was real.

I wish I had told you I was in love with you when I had the chance. I always will be.

I wanted to spend my life with you.

I would have moved to be closer to you, if you had asked me to.

When I reached out to you all those years ago to let you know I was getting married, I was secretly hoping you would tell me not to. I still wanted it to be you.

I wish I would have waited for you longer.

16 years later and I still think about you every day.

I still fantasize about feeling your fingertips on my skin and your lips on mine.

I wanted you to choose me.

I miss you S.

-T

I would never feel pity for you,
no matter how wrong it could be,
how hard it is to reach,
or how unusual it may seem.
You would always inspire in me nothing but love
an independent sense of happiness,
just knowing that you exist.
And gratitude that you let me admire you,
worship you, if I could,
like you were probably worshipped
long ago.
Like you will be worshipped
and desired
many years to come.
You are a reason for a hunt.
An honest one.
Where the catching is also pure.
Where your happiness is also assured.
And with your happiness,
and your lust,
and your beautiful hips
that I might never touch,
I will behave.
I will pray
that you are my Siren
in such a large sea

So.... you're feeling heartbroken and miss them?

Sometimes we don't truly fall in love with a person. We fall in love with the image we've built of them. And maybe that's what's hurting you the most.

You gave them something that was incredibly valuable to you because you trusted them. You weren't wrong because you had feelings, nor because you chose to experience something with them. You were wrong, perhaps, in believing that what they meant to you necessarily meant the same to them.

You looked at them with the eyes of someone who hopes to work things out, while they perhaps looked at you with the eyes of someone who was already used to moving on easily.

And the hardest thing to accept is that you probably shouldn't wait for them to come back. Because when a person has already shown themselves to experience relationships that way, you can't continue to love the version of them you hope they will become. You have to look at the version they showed you they truly chose to be for YOU.

You haven't lost "the right person." You've lost the idea you'd built of them really

And perhaps this is precisely the pain, realizing that you overvalued a person you had given a value they hadn't yet proven to deserve.

Even if they do come back, don't turn their return into proof that what you experienced was worth something. Sometimes people come back, but not because they've understood our value: they come back because they miss what they received from us.

You, on the other hand, must learn not to confuse being desired with being loved. Don't wait for it.

Because while you stand in front of a door hoping it will reopen, life could already be on the other side, waiting for you to have the courage to turn around.

And don't be ashamed of the choice you've made. A wrong choice doesn't make you wrong. It just teaches you that next time you should choose someone not for what you imagine they might be, but for what they prove to be.

Perhaps your story wasn't meant to be love.

Perhaps it was meant to teach you how deeply you can love, and above all that you should no longer offer that depth.

And dont worry. If it's really meant to be, you can let go of it knowing it's in the universe's hands. It'll come back to you no matter what, and nobody can take that away from you. But you cant go so far that you forget destiny is written.

You do something to me,

Not physically, not sexually,

I've never needed anyone.

It's deep beneath the surface,

This thing you make me feel,

Like how the flowers need the Sun.

I’ve begun to study your face
Like it’s my favorite book
The way you tilt your head side to side
As a subconscious gesture
When you’re thinking
The way your lips and eyes curve
In hunger
At my daunting smirks
The dark shadows you try to hide
From the coldness that creeps in
The lack of sleep
From relentless uncertainty of everything
And I think to myself again and again
Of the trials I would endure
To bring more justice to society for you
I would set the world on fire
To keep you warm

Darlin'! Hi there long lost love. How are you doing and feeling? I worry about you every day and every night, like it hurts to think that I picture you crying all alone. At times I hear you and feel you. Twin flame suffering.

I can't do anything to help you, I so badly want to comfort you, and ease your pain somehow. it's literally killing me. It's all my fault too. After 40 months I feel like I've kept us apart. I'm so sorry.

I feel sick to my stomach not knowing how your day was...did you drink enough water? Did you eat enough food? Are you able to sleep? I'd come running to you if you contacted me.

We've been going on our own paths now for what feels like a lifetime. Why does it feel so hard? There is nobody anywhere else like you, the feelings and emotions that I experience are all for you.

If by chance you come across this, know that I miss you like a desert misses water. I miss your voice, your face, your soft hands. I miss everything about you. You my love. I'm never giving up on us.

I love you. You are my best friend, and I love you. But I will never tell you. There are so many things I love about you that its hard to keep count. I dont love you only because your beautiful and talented. Which you are both beautiful and talented, no matter what anyone else says, you are. But I also love your kindness, your compassion, your stubbornness, your optimism, and so many little things that add together to make you who you are. I love how you're so kind to everyone, and always try to see the best in people. I love how you arent afraid to challenge me or call me out on my stupidity. I love how if you don't want to do something, you are so insanely stubborn about it. I love how you laugh at all my jokes, even if they are terrible. I love how you glare at me from across the room. I love how your voice goes up an octave when you talk to me, unless your annoyed with me. I love how when you get annoyed with me, you make it very clear. I love how forgiving you are. I love how you are so sweet to everyone around you, even if they arent sweet to you. I love how optimistic and joyous you are all the time. I love how innocent and nieve you can be at times. I love how you tease me back when I tease you. I love how you chose me as a friend.

But most of all, I love how you didnt run when I opened up about my emotions. Im not very good at expressing my feelings. I used to think that in order to be worthy of love, I had to be useful. One of the ways I decided to be useful was by being funny. If people think im funny, then they will keep me around. But you....you are different. You still care about me even when the jokes stop. When I genuinely opened up to you, you not only didnt run, but you reassured me. Whether you realize it or not, that is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. You showed me that I dont need to preform in order for people to care about me. You showed me that people can care about me for just being me. And for that, I am infinitely grateful. You're also happy all the time. Unlike me, you dont seem to be paranoid of people trying to hurt you. And I think you have shown me that I dont have to be scared that everyone is out to take advantage of me. When im with you, I want to be the best version of myself that I can be. Im not always the best version of myself when im around you, but I strive to be. You make me want to be a better person. You make me want to see the good in others. Because you saw the good in me. Thank you. Thank you so much for simply being you.

These feelings have developed over the past few years. Its crazy how much you can change in a few years. When I first met you, I wasn't the biggest fan of you becays4 broke the heart of one of my closest friends. In the beginning, I was literally just bullying you. But somewhere along the line, I realized that you were actually my friend. Not only that, but I eventually realized that I was starting to have feelings for you. I realized that I actually did have feelings for you, and they only grew from there.

I dont know if i will ever be able to tell you. Mostly because, yes, I fear being rejected, but it goes deeper than that. Not only have you stated multiple times that you arent ready to date right now, but you've also described how painful it was for you the last time a guy friend asked you out. I dont want to bring you the same pain. I dont want to hurt you. Ever. I guess I realized that I would rather be your friend forever, than risk hurting you. Even if that means silencing my feelings. I love you too much to risk hurting you, not like that.

I guess all this is to say: thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for choosing me as a friend. And thank you for not running when I let my mask slip. I doubt you'll ever see this message, but I do love you. And I hope my words encapsulated that. I guess you never know the impact you can have one someone, by simply being yourself

Dearest

I read here earlier- someone wrote “the ball is in your court” and I’ve been thinking about it… is there a ball and is it in my court? While I convincingly convinced myself that it is… it’s just not. Court? Sure- there’s always a court. But the ball? I definitely not-accidentally tossed it toward her but it’s complicated.

I’ve been watching like Linus in the pumpkin patch- (saw a Spirit Halloween open already… it’s not even falloween yet).

Am I destined to remain ballless, though?(I think) what happened is, my ball went into her yard… she came outside (hair in rollers smoking a camel light) - picked up my ball - looked me up and down before tossing it on the roof. Then, without saying a word, she went back inside. Before long, a truck with ladders on the roof pulled up (thought I was saved for a second) - but the crew got out and started building a fence.

All this and here I am - holding zero balls - looking at a fence.

Forlornly,
- B (the B is for balls)