Twenty-Eight Stamps [#Wattys2017] || ✓

the s i x t h letter

Dear Hunter,

I remember the way your voice sounded when we had our second encounter. It was like all of the good things in life, chocolate and coffee and summer and sandy beaches and soft music and calming waterfalls and plenty of others rolled into one. I was standing at my locker, transferring books from my bag to my locker and back again, and when I heard your bittersweet voice behind me I almost jumped out of my skin.

You told me you liked my hair again. I turned around and you were there, the vision of beauty and perfection rolled into one modest human being, and I couldn't decide whether I wanted to kiss you, run from you or simply admire you for the rest of eternity.

I took a moment taking you in, your chestnut hair flopping over your forehead, your striking sapphire blue eyes, your angular cheekbones and your perfect cupid's bow lips in all their glory.

"Maia, right?" I remember you asking, and I nodded just as that girl ran out of the blue and sent my books tumbling out of my arms to the ground, pages folding and spines splaying. You bent down to help me pick them up and as you did so, our foreheads brushed against each other. I remember you blushing, cramming my books hastily back into my bag, giving me a small wave and departing just like that.

Perhaps it was just a meeting, nothing more. Every relationship has to start with two people meeting one another. But did you just see me as a friend, Hunter? At first I didn't think you did, I really didn't. Now, though, I've begun to doubt myself.

Why did you leave so quickly, so suddenly? And why did you do the same thing to me: leaving abruptly, without a warning, the moment we seemed to get too close for your liking?

All my love, always,
Maia.