If you asked

You are perfect. I have known that since the day I met you. You are everything anyone could ever want, and if you asked, you'd know that I want you too.

I was six when my mother told me that there was a kid who was my age that moved in down the street. I thought that was awesome. The only friends I had up to that point were my cousins, and they were all boys. I was exited to have someone who actually play with me and not just mess with me.

That day, my mom brought me over to the neighbor's house for a play date. I couldn't wait to meet the girl who I could finally call my best friend. I walked into your cozy little home and there you were running down the stairs. Obviously you weren't exactly who I expected, but I didn't care. One look into those bright green eyes, and I was done.

It's strange to think that one look was all that it took for me to know that you were the one. I was so young, and maybe I am crazy. You felt it too. I could tell.

A few minutes passed by and we were starting middle school. The one place where everyone tested out who they wanted to be. You and I were inseparable, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Middle school was also where the stereotypes started settling in.

I was always told to never let them define me. I was smart, but no one ever called me a nerd. I was athletic, but no one ever called me a jock. I was everything. I could never decide what I wanted to do or be, so no one ever payed much attention to me.

You were different. You cared about what everyone thought about you. The first time someone asked you if we were a couple you denied it so fast that it almost hurt. I knew that you just wanted them to know the truth, but I wondered if you just didn't want them thinking you were with me. After you would tell them that, they started calling you gay. They wrote awful things on your locker, and said even worse things straight to your face. The part that I really hated was that no one ever did anything about it.

I wanted to. You have no idea how much I wanted to, but you always told me not to. You said that it would only make things worse. I didn't see how that was possible, but I listened to you because I trusted your judgment.

It's amazing how much things change between middle school and high school, isn't it? It seemed like suddenly everyone had their own place. The people who used to bully you every day decided that enough was enough, and left you alone once and for all. I had finally found my true passion in writing, and you had found yours in football. They weren't exactly the most compatible groups, but we made it work. I would sit in the bleachers every Friday night and watch you play, then after we would drive somewhere quiet and I would let you read some of my writing.

Those Friday nights were some of the best nights of my life. That old blue truck was home for me. I could just forget the rest of my life and listen to you read my words out loud. I could write them, but you brought them to life. You gave them an energy that I will never forget. Those words were ours. They will always be ours.

We drifted apart during senior year. I can't pinpoint the exact reason why, but it did happen. We still hung out on occasion, but it wasn't the same. You would always say that we had to start thinking about our futures. Technically, I already knew were my future was headed. I had been accepted to a great college in Florida the past year, but that wasn't what I thought of when I thought of my future.

I thought of you. I thought of everything I wanted us to be, but it couldn't happen. I tried to accept that. I started dating for the first time that year. Whenever I tell people that I didn't have my first boyfriend until my senior year, they never believe me. You know it's true though, even if it is pathetic.

I didn't give myself enough respect when I was choosing who I dated. I chose boys who treated me like I was trash because I thought that was what I deserved. All of those times I told you that I had fallen off of my bike or other stories like that, well, that's not what was really happening. Here's my big confession, they hit me. Each and every one of them. I would always end it right after they did it, but I was never smart enough to do it before. You would never hit me.

Years passed like the wind, and I got the invitation in the mail. I didn't know her, but I could tell by the picture that she was beautiful. I hadn't seen you since graduation, but I'd thought about you every day. We had emailed almost every day, so you could see my surprise when I found out you were getting married. I had never even heard her name. I cried myself to sleep that night.

I called you the first thing the next morning and asked you about her. You told me it was very sudden and you called it love at first sight. I understood completely, because I remember how I felt the first time I met you. That's what made knowing it so much harder. Someone could feel the same way about you that I do, but you chose her. You didn't even see me.

I attended the wedding, and you even convinced her to let me be a bridesmaid. I saw you a few minutes before the ceremony, and I thought I had my chance. I could finally tell you how I felt before it was too late, but I remembered how she talked about you, and I couldn't do it. I wanted so much to just reach up and kiss you forever, but I couldn't ruin it for you or for her. I didn't deserve you any more than she did.

She walked down the aisle in the most gorgeous dress I have ever laid eyes on. You married her, and I held back my tears.

So here I am now. Sitting in an empty apartment writing something that no one will ever see but me. If you asked, I would let you read this. We could sit in the back of that old truck and you would give my words more life than I could ever imagine. If you asked, you'd know that you are the love of my life.