Hey you,
First off, you might be wondering if this letter is directed at you. When we met, it was at a hangout in New York City, during a major party filled with club lights, neon colored people, and a new type of music I had never heard before. It was the first time I ever actually felt included in anything. It was the first time that people ever called me beautiful, and offered me hugs for doing nothing but smiling. To that day, I never felt that kind of acceptance before. I was enamored with the scene, and with you.
You were, and still are, part of the reason I am the person that I am today. Believe it or not, back in the day, I looked up to you. You were this tall, imposing geek of a guy who seemed to have the whole world turn in his hands. You were popular. You liked computers and anime You were a geek like me, but unlike me, you had power. You were mysterious. You were everything my parents warned me about, and more. You were dangerous. Goddamnit, I don’t even think you realize how attracted I was to you.
All those times we hung out, I never actually thought you liked me. I was so painfully shy around you — I still am. Truth be told, I had no idea that you even considered me your girlfriend of sorts until someone referred to me as such. When I heard it, I turned beet red. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed, it was that I was totally stunned that a guy like you would be interested in a girl like me. After all, it’s not like you’ve ever told me you loved me, or that you even liked me in that way.
It doesn’t seem to matter how many years pass with you. I remember every little detail of every moment that we’ve met up, that we’ve been intimate, or that we’ve crossed paths. You, unlike so many others, left an imprint on me that I don’t think time can erase. You’re just that kind of person. You’re the only guy I’ve ever met that still makes me feel like that little timid school girl. It doesn’t matter who I know, what I’ve done, how far I’ve come, you still make me cower in what can only be called an extreme case of limerence.
With us, it’s always been a cat-and-mouse game. You’d chase me, I’d chase back. I’d be flailing at any opportunity to get you to talk to me, and you’d pretend to play it cool. We’ve both tried it all. We’ve behaved like schoolyard bullies with each other. We’ve both tried to pretend we don’t like each other. Hell, I can’t even name how many times I’ve tried to make you jealous. I think they worked in the jealousy department, but not in the “inspiring the guy to actually talk to me without fuming at me” bit.
And yet, I’ve never told you my full feelings to your face. The closest that we’ve had was after that one Halloween night, when you held me and said that you were sorry about the last caper you’d pulled. You then called me up the next morning, and asked me on a proper date, complete with sushi. Then I did the least attractive thing I could have done and spilled my guts out and you cancelled the date. I cried for about a month. In that way, you’re like a really bad drug — I get high off of you, then when you’re gone, I crash hard. Still, that was as close as we’d ever gotten to hearing the other one saying it.
I then met the father of my child, and brought him to a party your friends were throwing. I didn’t expect to see you there. I didn’t expect you to follow us around for hours. I didn’t expect to see you guzzle about 14 mixed drinks that night. I didn’t expect to see you charge towards my boyfriend, with your finger pointing towards the air, then see you make a U-turn after I said, “Hello.” I didn’t expect you to be behind me when I told my now-ex that I loved him. I didn’t expect him to tell me that you looked totally stricken, and that you turned to run the opposite direction. I didn’t expect everyone to jump back three feet when it happened, and I didn’t expect to see you barrelling through large crowds of people just so you could get away from me. I also didn’t expect you to disappear after that, nor did I expect my other ex to tell me that you had cried outside. Lastly, I didn’t expect to feel so bad afterwards.
I didn’t know what to expect, the days following. I never actually saw you behave like that before. Me, still trying to play the jealousy game, tried to play it off via text. Then, I snapped, because you weren’t taking the bait. Then, you snapped. Then you told me to leave you alone.
So I did, for the most part.
Long story short, we both know things snowballed a bit, but now, here we are. I really, truly wish that things had turned out differently between us. I wish that, somewhere along the line, one of us had the courage to have just said those three words I’ve been dying to hear, and dying to tell you. I wish that I could get rid of this longing, this saudade for a future that could have been with you.
You’ve taught me so much about myself, dear. It took me all those years to realize that, deep behind that tall imposing man was an equally shy, equally awkward little boy…just like the way there’s that scared little psychotic trainwreck in me. You taught me what real emotion feels like. You inadvertently taught me street smarts. You taught me the meaning of saudade, limerence, and the word “mindfu*ck.” You also taught me the pain that comes with not being able to admit how you feel about a person until it’s too late.
For what it’s worth, I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I love you.
Ossiana
