Letters to Everyone

A Letter to a Boy with Curly Hair

Hi. 

I miss you.

I want to see you. Like see you see you. I'm comfortable with you. I am an asshole around you. I want to get over our exes together. I want to fight with you about our narcissism. I want you to tell me when I'm being an arrogant smart ass. I'll believe you because I genuinely believe you are a smart person. More than can be said for the other 3. I want to explore with you. I want to sit in companionable silence with you. I want to read in the same room. I want you to make fun of the books I read or critique the authors and I want to build them paper defenses with your sister. They don't need to be perfect if they make me happy. I want to tell you you're elistist and I want you to tell me that I'm the same. I want to sit in our castle made of books and look down on the rest of the world with you. I want you to want me to read Brandon Sanderson. 

I want to go on library dates and aquarium dates and zoo dates (and critique the system that is the zoo). I want to travel. I want to go to plays. It doesn't have to be with you, but you're the closest I've ever met to someone I can do that with.

I want to have to tell you that you talk to little. I want you to tell me I talk enough for the both of us. I want the showmance. 

I want to play beer pong and lose. 

I want to be the person that mussed up your hair to the point of your siblings noticing in the kitchen.

I want to shop for weirdly shaped houses. 

I want to make it work across the world.

I want crosswords and connections and wordles.

I want to kick your ass at word games. 

I want you to tell me that you don't want to hear about the attractive people I've met here because you only want me to want you.

I want to do shopping trips with you.

I want you to be single until I'm back.

I want you to see my pictures and wish you were there.

I want to send sad lesbian music back and forth forever.

I still can't believe I had you. For that short period of time, I had you. Somehow I pulled. I never thought I could. Everyone wants you. Every person I've met who has met you wants you. You're smart and pretty and kind and socially competent. And you CARE. And you write poetry. Who wouldn't? You go to the gym and the theater. You study humanities and STEM. In comparison to the people I know, you're rare. I can't believe my smartass mean jokes really got you. 

More than anything, I want to stay friends with you. I don't think you're someone I can lose. I want to bookclub with you forever. 

Platonically forever