Letters to Juliet

Dear Juliet

Dear Juliet.

I came home around 7:00 after visiting hours were over. The light in the kitchen was on and the door was unlocked. I walk in and you're sitting at the counter, playing with your keys.

"Hey." I call out, trying not to scare you.

"What were you thinking?" I ask, storming in to my room and slamming the door.

You jump up, startled. "Hey! How is she? Are you okay?" You walk towards me eagerly. "And sorry about just showing up earlier. That was stalkerish.." You laugh awkwardly.

    "Why are you laughing? This is serious. You can't just come to people's houses. And my mom almost died." I soften a little at your hurt expression. You look like I slapped you. I certainly feel like i did. "How'd you even get here?" I ask, trying to adopt a lighter tone.

"Well I drove my own car. And I have a GPS. And you said to come in..I just wanted to talk to you.." You say, combing your fingers through your hair. I assume this is just to distract yourself since your hair looks flawless.

"About what? And shouldn't you have gone home by now? Won't your dad get mad at you or something?" I'm exhausted and if you keep trying to talk to me, I'll hurt your feelings.

"My dad is dead." You say quietly, and I quickly regret my words. Some of us actually knew and like our dads. I feel like a jerk. How could I forget that? You cried into my shoulder in ninth grade at his funeral and I let you without saying a word. I don't know why I showed up; you barely knew me.  

All I did was stroke your hair and tell you I was there and that you weren't alone. That I knew what it was like to not have a dad, even if I didn't know what it meant to lose one. I remember that being the first time that you ever looked at me as though I wasn't some stupid goth nerd. You looked at me like I was, well, a person. One you liked. And appreciated. 

I look over at you, and you blush. Apparently you were having the same memory.

We sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, and I can't take it anymore. Finally I have to say something.

"What did you want to talk to me about??" I ask. I know I shouldn't be encouraging you, but the curiosity is killing me. "Why'd you go to all this trouble to prove some stupid thing you said at school?"

"I already told you." You say, turning your deep blue eyes towards me. "I want to be with you. Why don't you understand that?" I open my mouth to speak, but you hold up your hand. "Let me finish." You say. I shut my mouth and wait.

"I have tried to get up the nerve to talk to you for the last two years. Ever since you noticed me in ninth grade. When my dad died, you were the only one who didn't say it was going to be okay. The only one who didn't expect me to be strong and shrug it off. You let me cry, and you didn't judge me. You were the only one that understood me. And I liked you. A lot. But you didn't see me.

"I went out for cheerleading, hoping you'd remember me. You didn't. I started dating the school's most popular football jock hoping you'd get jealous and say something. You wouldn't. I tried talking to you in the hallways. You ignored me. It broke my heart.

"I know I should've hated you, but I couldn't. I only wanted you that much more. All your rejection ever did was make me more determined to get you. I think I loved you at one point. Maybe I still do. But when you smiled at me the other day, I wanted to be wrapped in your arms instead of Brandon's. I wanted you to smile at me like that every day. And this morning when you talked to me and let me hug you, I thought I might explode. Nobody has ever made me feel that way. All day I was nervous about talking to you, and every time I saw you I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing, just looked at you and smiled. But you wouldn't smile back.

"In class, I thought you just didn't want to be seen talking to me, so I gave you you're space. But at lunch..what you said killed me. My soul shriveled up because I thought that maybe you were playing with me; that maybe I had made a fool out of myself by believing that anything could happen between us.

"But I saw you look back before you left the cafeteria. And what I saw in your eyes wasn't anger; it was pain. And I knew that maybe, just maybe, you liked me and were lying. And I just had to take that chance. Because if I didn't, then I know I would never again get up the nerve, and that there would never be an us. And I couldn't stand the thought of staying with some jerk when the one I actually love is standing across the hall from me, staring away just because I know that deep inside he can't stand it either."

By this time you have tears streaming down your face, and their lilke liquid stars falling from the sun. What have I done to you? What have I put you through?

You must see the shock and regret on my face because you take a step towards me. Now only one foot of space seperates us, and my heart begins to race. You've stopped crying, and in the silence I can hear your rapid breathing. 

I resist the urge to wipe the tears from your face and wrap you in my arms.

And suddenly I want to be with you so badly I can't stand it. If what you said is true then neither can you. I never thought that maybe you'd want me too, but here you were, saying that and more.

On an impulse I step forward and kiss you. Right there in my room. I know that I shouldn't be kissing you when you're dating another guy, but I can't help it. Almost.

I pull back, gasping slightly at the air that seems to fill the small gap between our faces. You're smiling but you look dissapointed too. "What about Brandon?" I ask.

I can't do this yet. This isn't about what I want, even though I clearly want to kiss you again. It's about the right thing. And kissing another boy's girlfriend isn't right. I may not be a saint, but I will not put a girl in a situation like that.

You smile slightly and cock your head. "Brandon who?" You ask happily, and that settles it. I pull you closer to me and kiss you again. This time I don't jerk back.