I can't understand why you don't stay up late.
I always kind of associated you with the dark, and it's dark outside now. The moon is one of those two-faced things where it can form an eclipse or a nightlight. And I guess you could either be an eclipse or a nightlight too. I've seen you be the sweetest person alive, but I've also seen you be a complete ass. Does it depend on the day? Or does it depend on the person?
I think that I'm going to dream about you. Some nights just seem to call for it after, especially after you've spent half an hour crying on the floor of the shower because you can't escape your feelings. I can't escape my feelings. Not that I am entirely sure what those are right now anyway. It's very hard to explain. Maybe you understand more than I think. You have had that thing for Lauren for a while now and it's probably pretty comparable to how I feel about you, right? That empty feeling at the pit of your stomach that suddenly feels alive when you are around the person? You know. That. That's about it. And I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, but I can't seem to let it go.
I want you to promise me a place. Just, don't forget me, because I don't know if I'll forget you. Even a decade from now, when I come back to my terrible high school poetry and this God-awful collection of letters, it might all come flooding back. And maybe that'll be okay.
YOU ARE READING
To All The Michaels I Have Ever Known
Teen Fiction*EDITED, REVISED, AND COMPLETED 08/22* Let me just lay this out for you really quick: 1. Freshman year of high school there was a Michael. He was tall, like 6'8, and once he decided to not be a dick, he was really sweet. 2. You. Obviously. Tha...
