Dear Ryder

Letter 3

Dear Ryder,

As I got ready today, I put in a lot of thought and effort. Why? Because today was the August the first.

You know what that means. And yes, you're right.

I knew you would be there. And sure, you were. I was esthetic at first, but you didn't even glance my way. But I watched you.

I watched as you laughed and smiled with the others, never once looking my way.

I didn't pay any attention at first, thinking you'd eventually come over and talk to me.

But now, as I run home trying not to trip on my heels, I was reminded once again of how I mean nothing to you.

Why did I leave? Because I was tired of looking at you and knowing that you'd never want me. Because I was sick of knowing that I'll never be the one you love. And also, because you let me down.

How? The time we were debating what song to play, and you named my favorite, with your eyes set on me.

You have no idea how I felt. The only thought in my mind was: "He remembers." I was smiling so hard.

And then your rap. To me it sounded like you were singing about me. But I know that you weren't. I know that it was just wishful thinking on my part. And now, with that dull ache in my chest as I lie here in my oversized clothes, doing the one thing I'll ever be good at: Writing.

Yes, my dear Ryder. You don't know that I write well, not because I never told you, but because you never asked. Maybe it just never crossed your mind that a girl like me could write well. A girl so... Flawed.

Although I ask myself why wasn't I good enough, deep down I know the answer: Because I simply don't deserve you.

You deserve someone pretty, someone smart, someone who makes you laugh, someone who listens to you, someone who has lesser problems than I do. Someone with lesser scars.

These were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I sat in the dark, feeling your gaze burning holes into me. And I got up and walked away.

Not because I didn't want to be there with you, but because I couldn't be there with you. It was killing me.

As I walked out of the institute and towards my house, I wanted you come chasing after me. I wanted you come and grab my wrist and pull me to you and tell me that you love me too.

But Ryder, sweetheart, this isn't a movie, right? Sure, you're a prince. But I'm not a princess, and my life isn't a fairy-tale. I'm fact, it's a fucking mess.

So, why am I so disappointed? Because I expected too much. And when you expect too much, you're always let down. And I was. You didn't follow me. You didn't even glance my way as I walked out.

And that's what tore me, knowing that I may have you forever in my heart, but never in my arms.

Yours, Brooklyn

******

A/N: Bleh. Okay, third chapters up! Honestly, Ryder is so messing up :-\
But anyways, don't forget to Vote and Comment!

                                                  xx Brooke