Dear Boy I Really Have a Bunch to Tell,
Alright, so I feel like I owe you a letter of some kind. I don’t know why, since I just saw you only a few days ago, and texted you earlier today. I feel like I haven’t yet said enough to you, though, and I have to just tell you everything all over again.
Like, I’ve said it a million times already, but I have to say it again. THANK YOU. For a boy who only knew me for a grand total of (all lumped together) 14 days and 5 letters and a handful of emails and profile messages and IMs… you absolutely did everything in your power to make my stay in your neck of the woods easy and welcome. I never expected that of you, and you went and just amazed me at every turn. Do you even know what it means to me? You gave up your money, your weekend, your house, your food, your time, yourself… to hang out with a girl you kinda know.
That? Deserves such a large thank you that I can’t even express it without postponing my flight, coming to get you, giving you a kiss and a hug and all my life’s savings and my pay for the next 3 months, and then paying for you to take a vacation to wherever you like in the world. And that may only just barely cover it.
That’s not everything I want to tell you. I want to tell you how fantastic the rest of my trip was. I want to tell you how much I missed you after I’d left. I wish I could tell you everything that happened while we weren’t keeping up with our letters. I should tell you about everything that I have planned for the next couple of months and how much I’d love love LOVE for you to come visit me sometime (even though I know you won’t)….
I mean, I want to tell you that I think I kinda like you. I want to tell you, because I feel like a third grader all over again. I want to pass you a note that has the whole… ‘Check yes or no if you like me too’ at the bottom. I keep blushing when anyone asks about you, because I say that we’re just friends, but they always have that knowing grin on their face. Because guys can’t just be friends with girls, can they? Or vice versa, in my case, I guess? I want to tell you that I really do kinda like you. Like, LIKE like you.
See? Third grader. And I’m trying really hard to fight it, you know? Because I don’t think you like me that way. And then I do. And then I don’t again. I’m not sure what to think of you anymore, other than to say that it’s totally killer to have a friend like you. You’re my hero and totally unlike any other guy here and it makes me do a little dance every time, because I know you. *I* know *you* and I’m so very *lucky* to have met you and have you in my life. You’re a rarity and a gentleman and sometimes it gives me warm fuzzies to think that I get to be recipient of all that lovely that is you. I can’t measure up. And I really really want to.
So we get to the big issue that I wanted to tell you about. I want to tell you that I want to be good enough for you. How about that, huh? It’s been stirring up inside me since I saw you that first day and you were walking toward us and I just…. There was this raw ache in my chest that made me suddenly look away and feel both amazing and worthless at the same moment. I want to be the girl that meets your every need. I want to be your backup. I want to be the shoulder you cry on (manly tears, of course…). I want to be there for you and I want to be good enough for you.
I know you don’t think you’re all that great of a guy. *shrugs* I don’t think that way. I think you’re in my “Top 5 Amazing Guys” list. Up there with like… Jesus. And my daddy. It’s a hard list to get on. And you’re already there. I want so badly to be perfect for you. And I’m so the wrong girl for you. I know that better than all the rest of the trivial crap I know. (Oh, you know as well as I do that I know lots and lots of trivial crap.)
I’m the wrong girl for you, but I want so very hard to be the right girl. I want to bring myself up to scratch for you. I want to wave my arms in the air and get a big neon lighted sign that says ‘Look at me! Pick me!’ I want it so very hard it feels like it’s really there, flickering and heavy in the dark. I don’t know so many things that a girl my age should know. I can’t flirt to save my life, and everything I say generally comes out wrong. I’m so much better when I’m writing and I can be your confidante and your comfort without ever opening my mouth. I’m not pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough, practical enough… I don’t even think I’m enough for you.
But I wanted to tell you that… I mean….
If you like me, will you please circle yes at the bottom of this letter? Because I’d love to know whether I stand a chance.
Love always,
Me
Yes No
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