Dear Dan,

001.

January 2, 2013

"Excuse me, miss? I can think of one reason why you shouldn't go out with me."

As coffee burned my tongue, I turn to the man standing beside my table and just stare at him. Holy shit, Blanchard, he's talking to you! Don't be a shit. I laugh and stare him up and down, assessing him.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes I am," he says. "And yes, that was me hitting on you."

"That was terrible," I say.

"Was it? You haven't stopped smiling yet."

I try hard to stifle the grin; I try really hard, but in the end the corners of my lips quirk up in appreciation of how beautiful the man before me really is; How pleasing to the eyes, and clearly the other women here agree.

"May I sit?"

"No my boyfriend is sitting there," I tell him, he sits anyway.

"Now he is," he says, smiling. "I've been watching you for over an hour now, and you haven't stopped reading that trashy travel book nor do you have a male accompanying you today. Would going out with me be so bad?"

"I don't know, you tell me, you said there was a reason why I wouldn't want to anyway." I snap.

The grin holding his cheeks up does not fall but only broadens further. "I was going to say that if you went out with me, it would break the heart of every other man in this world, and we wouldn't wanna go breaking anyone's heart now would we?"

"I think I'd be breaking your heart by declining," I tell him. He laughs, and what a sound it is.

His laugh breaks through the parts of me I didn't know I had, it crushes my ribs against the sides of me and fills the empty space they leave behind, I am pulled towards him like a bad game of tug-of-war and he is the master of the game.

"I think you're right, so maybe you do have to go out with me now," he smiles.

"I don't even know your name," I say, I squint at him, daring him to say something back.

"Good, so we're already off to the start of a perfect romance," he tells me. My mouth pops open a crack to let out a breath I've been holding my whole life before I found him, or until he found me.

"It's 2013. If I don't know your name, you're not taking me anywhere."

"Dan Howell and yours is Grazia Blanchard, we both graduated from Denefield two years ago and now we both attend the same university, you have almost every class I have and I've wanted to take you out since I first laid my eyes on you, the first breath you breathed around me was the first time I've ever wanted to grab a girl as hard as I could and kiss her as if to make our breaths one. Go out with me," he says.

"Okay," I cautiously tell him. He smiles and takes a fry from my plate. "Watch it," I warn. "I can still say no."

"Yes but you haven't," he says, clicking his tongue. "I'll see you tonight."

"Wait, what time? What should I wear?"

"Don't let it be like that, show up how you want. See you at midnight," he smiles.

"Wait, midnight? That's too late — Where are you going? Get back here!"

And he's gone.

November 26, 2014

He told me that I was the reason that he had to drink before he slipped into his sheets. He told me that he can't shake the taste of me, no matter who he touches, he says no one's skin is sweeter than mine, and he can't shake the hollowness of my cheeks and how beautiful I am at three in the morning and I say, "oh."

As class begins, I watch as he moves a piece of hair away from his face so carefully he's afraid it would break if he was less gentle. He turns around to look around at me, and I notice the look of terror that passes him when he sees me as if I have given him reason to fear me as if looking at me is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. As if he regrets ever laying one eye on me.

I smile at him, offering him the best apology I can, the only apology I can offer. He nods and smiles back, and she turns around to see me and smiles too. My smile fades too quickly at the way her lips curve and smooth out against each other, and fuck God for never giving me everything she has, she turns back around.

"You know, some of the best writers come from odd backgrounds." My professor has entered the room and I grow silent.

Some people give their opinions, but the only thing I can think of is how Dan Howell would like me to burn up so I can stop haunting him, he said I was the ring of bruises around her neck, and that no matter how hard he fucks her, he cannot fill the emptiness that has been eating his brain ever since I declared him the winner of the breakup, I laugh to myself and think, "stop cheating then."

"What's the oddest thing you've ever done in a relationship?" Professor Amari asks, and because of my current situation, I am forced to laugh.

Eyes on me in the centre of the room, an eyebrow in front of me raises in question, Professor Amari is looking at me, I know he was expecting something from me, considering I always bring the fire around here.

"Anything you'd like to share with the class, Grazia?"

"I once bet that I would be the winner of the breakup in my relationship," I said, and because saying it out loud made it sound funny, I laughed. "I mean what the fuck? I swore I was going to win."

And because it's Professor Amari, he doesn't say a word when I let my swear word fly. "And how did that go?"

"I lost," I say, and look directly at Dan, he's looking at me, jaw locked. "He won though, ask him."

It gets quiet in the room, and eyes turn towards Dan as if waiting for the big story behind the breakup, but it's really only one thing to tell — we broke up because I couldn't keep my mouth shut and he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Coughing, Dan's eyes graze around the room and he turns his chair all the way around to look at me and laughs. "Maybe you won, Grazia."

"Don't be so honest, Dan. You definitely won," I say, I smile at him.

Professor Amari clears his throat and that is our signal to stop, and I seem to be able to do that so easily. "What does falling in love feel like?"

"A mistake," Dan answers, some nod and some laugh along with him. I stand.

"I need to be excused," I say.

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie perfectly.

"Class starts soon, are you sure you don't want to stick it out?"

"I'm sure," I say. I begin packing my bag back up and start down the stairs, past Dan and Catherine Bacardi, the only person I've truly grown to hate.

I stop to take a look at him. "How can it be a mistake that when I kiss you I can taste the next eighty years of my life? Or how after you've kissed me just saying your name feels like pronouncing fireworks? How is it a mistake that you make me feel like I've been born again from ashes, or that you are like getting all of the right tiles in scrabble and you are fucking to music so loud our ears ring, and you are two in the morning tickle fights and drunken adventures I don't regret, you are a weather alert in my lungs, and I don't regret you at all? How is it a mistake that when I wake up in the morning I want to reach over and push my hands through your hair like pushing my hands through the sand? How is it a mistake that," I stop to breathe through the tears I couldn't bite back.

 I look at Professor Amari. "I'm sorry."

A/N: If you've made it to the end, thank you so much, I truly appreciate it. I'm very excited to be sharing this story with you all so I hope you enjoy it, and remember that you can always reach me through the comments section down below!

All the love, T.