❛ 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ❜ ━━ (hobie brown)

𝐱𝐢𝐢. 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

                                ╰┈➤ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞: 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄,

I find myself once again, confiding in the sanction of these pages. Pen meets paper and for once again I find myself feeling free. Free to express emotions I have bottled up for ages.

So I write you again, this time to explain myself.

In every universe Gwen Stacy falls for spider-man. I suppose in some it's MJ instead. And in every universe it doesn't end well.

You are not Gwen Stacy. You are not MJ. But I can't shake the feeling that somehow, someway this isn't meant to end well for us.

But still my heart yearns for you.

I've lied to myself for ages. Telling myself I didn't love you, telling others I didn't love you.

Telling you I felt nothing at all. But it was so hard to lie when my heart practically melts whenever I see you. It's hard when every little bit about me is somehow a reminisce of you.

They will rip my heart out of chest and cut it open and all that will pour out is the tears I've shed thinking of you.

They will hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if I love you and I will say 'no' but the needle will jump and sputter exactly how you laugh.

I'm not confused on why I love you, who wouldn't. I'm confused on why you love me.

I'm not the type of person someone falls in love with. Not when you know who I really am.

But you loved me. And I was scared. I long for many things. A family, a sense of identity, of purpose, you.

But I have two longings that tear away at my soul day after day. One that is fighting another.

I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be alone. And you loved me so much it made me scared of being alone.

But even if you do love me, we'll hurt each other. Our love will cause our worlds to fall apart. I will spend eternity craving your presence. Sure I could fill the void with other men, other women, success, alcohol, someone else entirely. But deep down that would never work.

You can decorate absence however you want — but you're still gonna feel what's missing.

Make this easier for me. Tell me I never mattered. Tell me you can't consistently love me in the way I need, tell me you've moved on.

I think, I may be wrong, that you were my first love, even if I may not be yours.

First love doesn't mean best love, nor does it mean only love. It just means that some point, somewhere, we found comfort in one another. We could both easily love again, I'm sure you already have. But in this moment, even if just for a minute, we can have each other.

And that's what I want. I pushed you away but now I realize I want you close. Even if our worlds fall apart. But if we weren't mean to love each other I don't think we would have in the first place.

Of course I'll hurt you. Of course you'll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other.

But this is the very condition of existence.

To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.

So I will love you in your absence, because it means at some point, some time, somewhere.

We did love each other.

Forgive me,

Poppy

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙋𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙎!

I think my problem is, I make their love much deeper than an actual 18 and 19 year old could comprehend. And I make Hobie WAY too out of character. Look me in the eyes and tell me that man would say half the shit I write. You can't.

I take a lot of my inspiration from existing poetry/movies so if any of these lines look familiar that's why. There will be about two more of these letters before they stop reminder; these are the letters poppy wrote during the three weeks she was avoiding Hobie.

Not proof read