Letters To You

Your Stupid Perfect Face

Ugh I looked you up in my yearbook today. There you were, all young looking, before I noticed you. Ugh again because you were perfect. You are perfect. I can't get your stupid perfect face out of my mind.

It's always there. Truth be told, I like the way it's buried itself into a corner and sprouted roots, as if it doesn't plan on leaving and it's scared I'm going to come in with garden shears and cut it out. It shouldn't worry. I sound like I'm insane but I don't want to see your face worry.

You deserve to be happy. More than anything else in the world, more than my comfort or happiness, you need to be happy. If she makes you happy, then maybe I'm happy for you. Ok? I'm happy for you! You get the girl! Isn't that what everyone wants in the stories? You get your fairy tale ending with a fairy tale princess.

So what does that make me? The ugly stepsister? The Wicked Witch of the West? Maybe I'm reading far too deeply into analogies but it's a fault I need to work on. So you get the happy ending, but I don't have to accept it. I can still hope for a plot twist. Right?

Ugh.

I should've just titled this "Ugh" but I don't want that to be the last word on my mind. I don't want to have to think "Ugh" every time I think back to today. Although maybe I should. I did look you up in my yearbook. Ugh.

I just want my last thought before I finally fall asleep to be your stupid perfect face, and that's probably weird but I figure if I can't have you in real life I should at least deserve you in my dreams.

Ugh.