I DO NOT OWN THESE SONGS, I JUST OWN THE LETTER. AND THE LETTER BEING BASED ON THE SONGS. IF YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW.
I do take recommendations for songs.
Dear ----(eradicated)-----,
I missed those days.
We would stay up until the early morning hours talking.
There was this guitar in your room you would strum softly as we talked.
Your sheets were soft, unlike mine next door. The neon lights illuminated every detail on your face.
Sometimes I'd fall asleep in them, and you'd tease me for a while.
It was nice.
It was beautiful.
Some nights we'd snuck out when your parents fell asleep to walk underneath the moon. Those nights we would get no sleep, and didn't need it. Stayed up walkin' and talkin' until the sun peered over the horizon.
We'd get in trouble every time we got caught, but it was nice.
Me and You.
We always drove around in your car. Jet-black.
A pain in the summer, but you loved it and I did too.
When we'd get lost, we'd laugh. It was good to be free.
Just Me and You.
We'd always find our way back, of course, but with a slight thought of dread upon coming to society and it no longer being the both of us.
Then we went too far.
Fell too hard.
Couldn't get back up, and couldn't fix it fast enough.
We broke.
So now I write this next to Isabelle.
She's five foot tall and has skin as sweet as caramel.
But she's not you.
She's studying the major of Newswriting. Tellin' me all about it.
But all I can think of is that one time we pretended to be news reporters on television.
Making up our own stories. Mocking them. Laughing. Being together.
I can't help begin to think that I'm wasting time.
Wasting time spent with Isabelle when it should be spent with you.
We just fell too hard. Too fast for us to catch the mistake and fix it.
Every time I see you, it's like the first time.
Given, I was younger then.
But still the first time.
You are standing there, just there, with the leaves falling red around you. Your blue sweater curled around you as you frown and tuck your hair behind your ear. Studying outside.
Chem is hard, you used to say.
I just laughed and asked you, "What about our chemistry?"
But we got lost. Went too far into the path and couldn't go back.
I wish I could go back. Rewind. Fix it.
Fix us.
I go back in my mind enough. Reminiscing.
The sound of the soft strums of your guitar. The smell of your room. The way you looked under your neon lights, hoodie and all.
Giving me a smile as soft and secret as the way to strummed your guitar.
But that won't count for nothing now.
Because you are over there, and I'm here with Isabelle.
Wasting time with Isabelle.
I know it wasn't fake between us. It seemed that we could go on forever.
And I can't lie anymore about how I feel.
The pull between me to you is strong. Too strong.
Do you feel it too?
All those nights.
Your legs crossed beneath you. Your hoodie dark and long. Strumming your guitar. Talking. Sneaking out to walk beneath the moon, away from prying eyes.
Dang it, am I head over heels for you?
Even after everything?
I can't lie anymore. I'm open.
I'd rather hang with you than Isabelle.
She's a good girl.
You were wild.
It's been three nights and there is no drama.
I feel like laughing and sobbing as I remember that every hour we'd have something against each other. It was all new, every time.
Isabelle is close to perfect.
You were perfection in the way you carried your sharp broken pieces.
I'll never meet another like you.
So do you wanna talk?
Meet up?
Fix what we used to be?
Because I want to.
Because I'm missing you.
You are so close. Near me on campus.
But we never talk anymore.
I see you nearly every day.
It's a struggle. Stopping my sorry self from dragging me over to you every day and begging for you to speak a word to me.
But I write this instead, next to Isabelle.
Sweet, caramel-skinned, perfect Isabelle.
Not you.
I guess this is the closest I'll get to a confession.
This letter.
Probably going to be shoved in the bottom of my backpack. The back of my desk.
Never to be touched by you.
Just like me.
~Love, ----(eradicated)------
