I Capital L Love You

what if, what if, what if

March 16th
Dear Oliver,

     So. Your engagement. To Bri, not me.

     Hey, that rhymed.

     Focus, Sophie.

     Right. So. Your engagement. To Bri, not me.

     What exactly about your engagement bothers me? (Aside from the obvious).

     Is it because it's to Bri? Would I feel different if it were any other girl but me? Does a small part of my brain resent Bri?

     I don't think so. I mean, I love Bri. She's funny, nice, pretty, and smart. She's perfect for you and a great friend to me. She treats you right and makes you happier than you have ever been. How could I hate someone that makes you happy? All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy.

     You were never mine, so no, I wouldn't feel different if it were any other girl. You marrying any girl who isn't me would hurt like a bitch. This has absolutely nothing to do with Bri and everything to do with me and you.

     You, Oliver, will always just be the boy who is oblivious to my Love, and I will always be the girl who is too chicken-shit to speak her mind. You are not to blame for my reluctance – I am.

     Come to think of it, have you ever picked up on my signs? Do you know? Are you just ignoring the elephant in the room, or are you really, truly blissfully unaware?

     Well, I've officially gone crazy. Here I am, asking questions to a journal, pretending that it's my best friend, who I have been in Love with for years. Mentally stable people definitely do this. I guess it's a good thing that I'm already in therapy.

     Why didn't I tell you when I had the chance? There were so many chances – more than I can count on my fingers and toes.

     If I did, would I be the one wearing your ring?

     What would have happened if I blurted it out the very second I realized it? Or what if I told you on the first day of high school? What if I asked you to homecoming during freshman year? What if I told you after you broke up with Meredith instead of barfing all over your shoes? What if I told you at the junior prom? Or what if I told you at high school graduation? Or what if I told you before you met Bri at the Halloween party?

     What if, what if, what if.

     So many what if's, no this is what happened.

     I will never know the what if, so why am I focusing on it so much?

     I don't know.

     And I'm slowly but surely starting to accept that not knowing is fine. What you don't know won't kill you. Ignorance is bliss. It's better not to know.

     Whatever this is – falling out of Love with you, a self-discovery, or a trip down memory lane – is an uphill battle, but I like to think I'll win.

     And honestly, that's all I have to say today.

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