Dear You,
It's complicated. My mind is this big mess of muddled thoughts that even I can't sort through. Some days I'm extremely happy; others I'm neutral; and others I'm so very depressed. Some days I think you love me back; others I think you only want me as a friend; others I think you hate me. It's confusing and hard to deal with. I'm confusing and hard to deal with.
I know I probably frustrate you, too. I mean, I text you constantly, and that must be annoying to you. But, then again, you always reply. If you didn't want to talk, you wouldn't reply, right? Trust me, I frustrate myself, too, though. One day you'll text me, and we'll have a great conversation, and I'll be smiling the whole time, extremely happy to be talking to you. But, then, the next day you'll take long periods of time to answer even though I'm answering within seconds every time, and our conversations will be empty and boring, and I'll be beating myself up the whole time wondering what I did wrong, why you hate me, why I'm not good enough.
Those are the days I can't help but wonder that. Is it because I'm younger, like an annoying little sister to you? Is it because you're busy? Is it because you don't want to talk? Is it because I have too many problems you'd rather not deal with? Is it because I'm me? I can't help being me, you know. I can't help that most days, even when I'm extremely busy, my thoughts constantly revolve around you. I can't help that I lay awake at night hoping you'll text me. I can't help that I'm always texting you, because I just want to know you care, you had a good day, you're still you.
And, you see, I know you can't help it either, and I try to remember that. But depression's hard on my tired mind, and it's constantly playing tricks on me. I try to battle these thoughts... For you... But it doesn't always work. But, some days it does, and I feel on top of the Goddamn world. I feel like I could finally tell you I love you, and it would end up alright. I feel like a smile would be impossible not to keep on my face at all hours, from the rising sun to the setting pink in the sky above. I feel like I could conquer the depression, and it's all because of you.
And, I never thank you for that. Well, I guess I can't exactly since you don't know. I want you to know, though. I want to tell you all about the magical feelings you give me whenever we're in the same room. But, it's hard. It's complicated. How do I tell you? Because, if I tell you all that, I also have to tell you about the shit you put me through, and I really don't want you to feel like I'm the way I am because of you. And I don't have a clue what I'd do if you didn't feel the same way back.
And so, I continue making excuses to not tell you. Although, I still want to... Like I said, it's complicated. I'm full of indecisive opinions when it comes down to you. But, someone great once said that "until science gives us wings, we gotta find other ways to fly," and, although you drag me down and tear my wings off some days, most days you're my way to fly, and I think that's fucking beautiful. And I think you're fucking beautiful. So, please never leave me; please never hate me; please never get bored of me. I'm fucking begging you. I know I'm frustrating to deal with, but I fucking beg you: stay.
Love,
Me
