Sophie's feelings towards her best friend, Gabriel, she protects like it's her dearest treasure, in fear of someone finding them. In fear of him finding out. So she grabs her pen and writes her loveletters which he will never receive.
I'll start from the beginning. First of all, I haven't written so much this month because I just stay inside and do nothing. I begin to think that I am depressed. Thank you for that.
Today I had a really bad day. Like, an extremely bad day. You used to call them "DTTSUYWTGK-days". Which stands for "Don't Talk To Sophie Unless You Want To Get Killed".
Because when I have an extremely bad day, like today, I can scream and shout and let it all out (I swear I didn't quote Britney Spears) with only someone asking me something. Or just saying hi. I literally explode.
Today was one of those days.
And you called me.
A feeling of happiness washed over me when your picture and name appeared on my phonescreen. And I know I'll sound like a selfish person saying this, sorry, writing this, but I expected to hear you crying and apologizing for ignoring me and ramble on about how much you miss me in the other end. Of course, you didn't.
And I just realized you haven't told me you miss me ever since we facetimed. That's hell of a long time ago.
I picked up. "Hey!" I said. I wanted to sound happy. I don't want you to ever find out how I'm actually doing without you here and how miserable you make me.
"Hey, Sophie!" You said in the other end. And you called me by my whole name, again. What's happening to you?
"I was wondering if you could help me with something?" you asked. You needed my help again. I should've seen that coming.
I cleared my throat. "Another girl you're going to try and get?" I said with a laugh. You laughed, too. In that moment it was good to hear your laugh again.
"No, no. I'm fine with Vicky," you answered, and my eyes widened when I heard a girl's voice in the background. I'm sure that was Vicky. Did she listen to our whole conversation?
"Anyways," you continued, "I know you read a lot and you love Literature, so I was wondering if you could help me and Vicky with our essay?" you asked me.
I felt my blood boiling inside of me. Another call just to use me.
Another call because you needed my help. Because you know I love books. You know I love literature. Once again, you didn't call because you actually wanted to speak to me. Plus, Vicky was there, which made it ten times worse.
That's why I hate you, Gabe. Okay, I will use another word. I strongly dislike you. That's better.
And just so you know, I still have a little hope left.
And as I wrote in one of the other letters;
Please don't ruin that.
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