march 3, 2010
John,
I know that I like you now. It's terrible. Not because you're a terrible person or anything like that! But I know that you won't ever like me back. How could anyone like me? My hair is ugly. It's dirty blonde and it's always cut choppily and I always wear it with neon colored hair bands because I want to. I always wear jeans and t-shirts, whereas girls in our class wear shorts and leggings and dresses and skirts. I'm always the one left out, the one who has to work with the weirdo in the class- even though I am also the weirdo- because your friend wanted to work with you. I know that you'll never like me back. Ever.
love,
Mari
march 4, 2010
Mari,
I've started talking to you more again, and I can tell that you're much happier, which, in turn, makes me happier, because, once again, you are my best friend and you will forever be my best friend. However, I've started noticing these small changes in you. You shy away from me whenever I try to give you my hugs, and your face turns red so often when you're near me. You've started wearing clothes from Aeropostale and such instead of buying your normal t-shirts from Walmart. You're growing your hair out, and instead of cutting your own hair or having it done by your mom, you go out to hair salons.
What's wrong, Mari?
from,
John
YOU ARE READING
letters
Romancethey were five when they started writing. they were seventeen when they stopped. he was eighteen when he read her letters. he was nineteen when everything fell apart. +cover creds to abhaya ♥︎
