Sunday, April 20, 2008

a letter.

hey. things have changed. at one point, believe it or not, i saw you as unapproachable. when i first saw you, i saw the emo kid everyone else saw: the hair, the piercings, the fashion, that nonchalance you're supposed to be known for. i was smitten with your image. to me, you were perfect. anyone who talked to you, who seemed like they had a chance with you... i hated them. they got your attention and i didn't. when i saw you, i wanted to be your friend. i was jealous of girls who could waltz up to you and act like they'd known you their entire lives when i knew damn well they had met you three hours ago. i can't do that. i don't have it in me. then... things happened, and i realized that you and i could, maybe, be friends. the things that happened allowed me to get closer to you, to get to know how and who you really are. you might be an asshole. you might be a whore. you might be the go-to man. you might be god's gift to woman. you might not be anything at all. but i still like who you are. this is very pathetic. i'm writing you a letter that you'll never read. you'll never know what i think and feel. but it's hard to say if you'd even care. but the real pathetic attribute of this comes from the fact that i have no chance at all with you, and i allow myself to think that i do. nothing i do will let me have you. SOMEONE ELSE WILL ALWAYS BE A BETTER CHOICE THAN ME. and...somehow, i think i'm ok with that. when it boils down to it, all i want is what i've wanted since the first moment i saw you. i want to be able to say that i know you. i want to be able to think i know you better than others do. all of my reasons for wanting those things are disgustingly selfish, but there's always going to be the tinge of 'i wanted you'. i'll never to be able to escape that part of it. a piece of me will always wonder what would have happened between us. but the rest of me knows i'm better off not finding out at all. krissy.

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