Dear Kyle

Entry # 1

Dear Kyle,

A very mediocre thing happened today. I was headed towards the Psychology building in college today when I locked eyes with this guy who was not only staring at me but he had a very familiar look in his eyes. He kind of looked at me the way you used to and even though I did not reciprocate the stare it took me back to some of the best years of my life, reminded me a fraction of your stare.

Your. Stare.

You.

Is it pathetic of me to still miss you when you aren't even gone cause you weren't even there to begin with?

I still hesitate to word this feeling I abhore for you. It can't be called love cause you can't love someone without even knowing them.
That's right. I don't even know you excluding a couple of things that I've heard and noticed about you.

You are from Saudi Arabia and you're passionate about football. You have this thing that appears on your face similar to a dimple when you smile. You like your hair long, you sometimes have a mullet and fringes in front of  your eyes which if you ask me is adorable. You lost 10 kgs in the summer vacations before tenth grade. And oh, you used to have a crush on me.

That's it. That's all I know about you

And yet it wouldn't be wrong if I'd say that I'm (close to) in love with you. Still.

It has approximately been 2 years since I've seen you. In person. And it's been 4 years since I've developed this close-to-in-love feeling for you.

It was understandable in the beginning. We were classmates for a year and went to the same van. We used to sit near, you behind me most of the times in class. You were cute and those were my first few months in a co-ed school. And then you had to date she-who-must-not-be-named even if she was the one who asked you out. You used to stare at me the way you always have. The stare that makes me weak in my knees. The stare that turns my heart into mush. The stare that instills a variety of emotions in this stupid little heart of mine that has too much to give. To you. Apparently. The stare I wish you'd give me every day of my life. The stare I was targeted with even during the time you were dating she-who-must-not-be-named.

Moving on, we were not classmates the last year of school but we'd still go in the same van. A smaller van which resulted into us sitting besides each other on most days and us facing each other on the other days. Needless to say, the stare comes back into the picture. Everyday the driver would pick you up before me and when I'd enter the van greeting a junior of mine, you'd throw me that famous stare of yours. And I'd turn into a puddle hiding all the uncountable things I was feeling inside and put up a strong exterior. I had to. Crushes were pretty much new to me.

But I must tell you one of the most uncanny thing about this predicament is that there weren't many boys in my life before you and there haven't been many boys after you. And I wonder when and if this feeling would wash away when a new guy comes into the picture. For the past year, I've refused to entertain my thoughts floating towards you. The first year after we graduated school, I wrote this very angsty book where I wrote all about my theories, feelings about all those things I've felt for you and all the things that happened in the two years of school. To relieve my mind of all the thoughts consumed by you.

And I was okay after that. For a while atleast. But there's a winter every year that reminds me of you. There are so many mediocre things this unintelligent brain of mine reminds me of you. But that's okay, I was able to put up with even those.

But then one summer afternoon you had to send me a friend request on Facebook and rekindled a hope that never should even be there. And just like that every possible emotion I've felt in the past four years hit back like a violent wave hits the shore.

And now I'm lost. Again

I don't know why you would send me a Facebook request after two years of not having any contact with me. You are not the kind of person who sends people friend requests they have possibly talked to a few times in their life. Based on what my closest friends say, you wanted to keep a check on me. On what's been going on in my life. But why would you do that? Why'd you want to know about my life after that subtle rejection you threw my way two years ago?

It will always be a mystery to me as to why you rejected my confession when you were visibly so giddy about it. If I were a detective, I surely would have figured that out by now. But sadly I'm not so I won't ever know the answer to that.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this letter to you. It's not like I'll mail it to you. Ever. Not that I know your email address. Of course I don't.
I think I've been reading too much of Colleen Hoover lately and that is why I felt like writing this down. Writing about you after a year. This entire year I avoided thinking of you, talking about you, mentioning you. And I was successful for the most part. I just thought that if maybe I'd be able to push you out of my mind atleast for a time period, I'll forget most of you, maybe it'd lessen the hurt, shorten the hole in my heart caused by you. Maybe I'll be able to fit in someone else in this beating red object, replace you with someone who'd be willing.

But the sad truth is that. I haven't healed yet. And I haven't found anyone to replace you with. Bummer I know.

Yours,
The girl who's still figuring out how to un-love you.