Darry Curtis' Notebook

Dear David

"Dear David, I think I might like you. And not in the way friends like each other, but, as something a little bit more. I probably sound like a creep, sorry if I sound like a creep.

Who would even care though? No one's ever going to see this, and if someone is seeing this, I hope you're David. David, I like you a hell of a lot, I like your green eyes and your black hair. I don't know a whole lot of people who can make my stomach turn into god damn butterflies when they look at me.

I love your laugh, I love your smile, I love every little bit of your face and just, you , David. I probably sound like some chick who wants to get in your pants... Sorry if I sound like that, that's not what I wanted to sound like. I just think you're amazing David.

You're so kind, and you might not be too rich, but I don't think I'd be able to stand you if you were. I love your spirit, I hope you do get out of this town. This town's too small for a brain like yours. For a face like yours. This town's too small just for you as a whole.

So I hope you can leave it, just please, don't forget me if you do leave? Although, I wouldn't blame you if you did forget about me. I'm kind of forgettable. And I know you'd say right about now how that's absolutely not true.

You'd talk about how much more forgettable you are. And then I'd have to stop myself from telling you how I'll never forget you, and how I'll remember years after you've moved away to do something big.

I hope I can do something half as big as you're going to do. I know you're going to do something great, and who knows, maybe you'll be crazy enough to come back to Tulsa just to catch up with me.

Heh.

Like that would ever happen.

You're too good for me. And David, if you ever see this please don't tell me that you're not. And please don't punch me for basically just spilling my guts about how I feel about you. Please don't do that, trust me, I hated myself for long enough when I figured out I like you. I don't need to hate myself more if you hate me.

You're probably my best friend, David. Paul and Tim don't even come close to what you mean to me. I can only hope you can just awkwardly stop talking to me if you don't feel the same way.

It'd be a lot better for my self-esteem that way. If you just stopped talking to me. That is if I even have any.

Sorry again, if you hate me after this, if you ever find out that I love you and want to punch me in the nose. This is stupid anyway. You have a girlfriend, you're gonna take her to the dance this Friday and you're gonna drag me along even though you know how much I hate dances.

It's too many people, big crowds make me stressed. I feel cramped, and I get hot under the collar and you end up having to drag me away from a crowd of girls and sometimes even guys who want to dance or talk to me.

Thank you, for that by the way. At the last dance, I felt like throwing up. You were like an angel among devils. You were really too kind when you gave me your jacket. I still have it, but I think you know that. You see me wear it sometimes. You've never asked for it back though, so maybe you think I look good in it?

I don't know, I'm just dumb. I over analyze things. Whatever, I'll be fine. I love you, David. More than anything else on this godforsaken planet, except for maybe my brothers. But I know you feel the same way about your baby sister.

Anyway, I'm sorry, yet again if you hate me after this. That is if you ever see it.

-Darry"