Letters To You

Goodbye....?

I talked to you the other day. We were with other people, of course. But I couldn't help wishing that you hadn't stopped inviting me to your house. I'm sure my mom would be fine with it now that you have a girlfriend. But I guess it's too late for that. Or am I doing something wrong?

I had a dream about you last night. It sounds creepy but I promise it wasn't a weird dream or anything. Someone asked you if we were dating; you said "We're just really good friends." I wish you were as clear in real life. I think I could settle for that, but you barely ever talk to me at all anymore. Are you waiting for me to make the first move? Because I never know how to act around people like you. People who might like me or might dislike me. I hope you aren't the latter.

I watched the proposal video today. Granted, I didn't realize what it was until you started singing and then I just wanted to watch you. For a second, I could imagine you were singing to me.

But it felt wrong. Maybe I'm getting used to the idea that you and I will never be. Maybe my brain has decided to be realistic. Or maybe I just want to move on. For whatever reason, I'm starting to be okay with it all. Maybe we just weren't meant to be together. Maybe, just maybe, that's beginning to be alright.

I couldn't help telling her she looked pretty the other day. Because she did; she looked stunning. And for the first time half of me wasn't arguing that I'm still better than her. I realized that I'm not. I never will be quite as good as her. Because I'm not her, I'm me, and yes you chose her over me but could it be like choosing an apple over an orange? All this time I've been comparing myself to her as though we were both apples, both the exact same except she was shinier and less bruised, and maybe I'm losing this analogy but the point is that maybe you just happen to like apples more than oranges. Maybe I can't change that. It's not about you deserving a better apple. You just deserve an apple in general, you prefer apples. And I'm an orange. And someday I'll meet a guy who really likes oranges. My analogy has gone down the drain but I think you understand. Maybe your perfect girl isn't me, and maybe my perfect guy isn't you.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

I've said "maybe" far too many times, but the truth is, I'm not sure about anything that I'm saying. I'm trying to move on but the fact that I'm still writing this long letter to you proves otherwise. I want to be friends. Can we at least start there? I know nothing more will come out of it because I'm realistic and you're in love. But just because I'm saying goodbye to the love we don't even have, doesn't mean that I'm saying goodbye to you. Honestly, I don't ever want to.

Maybe I should text you back now, tell you that I'm doing great and we should hang out sometime soon to make up for all the times I couldn't. I wonder what you'll say. I wonder....