Paris Wills is a dreamer. His father always said he got it from his mom, an artist who was unlike any other. Her virtue was painting, and Paris' is poetry. No matter where he is, Paris finds inspiration for his poems.
In the summer after his sophom...
I understand a letter is pretty different from my usual writing style. Not that I ever showed you my poems. I never got around to it, but, from the moment we met, I felt comfortable enough to open my heart to you. You'll never know how much of an impact you made it my life, albeit how few interactions we shared. If you knew the slightest bit about me before moving here, you'd know that it wasn't like me to grow close to anyone. Since my mom died, I've consistently pushed people away and cut everyone out of my life because I was terrified of showing my emotions. Ironically, mere seconds after we met, I sobbed right in front of you.
So much for not showing my emotions, right?
When I broke down, I assumed it was because the pink carnations reminded me of my mom. Yet looking back, I don't think she was the reason I fell into your arms and wept into your comforting shoulder. It wasn't about missing her, it was about missing somebody to talk to, somebody who cared enough to hold me in their arms and let me cry. For years I've cried alone, bundled up under the covers. Then, I actually saw somebody in my reach, a complete stranger who didn't hesitate to carry me in his strong, sheltering arms.
You saw those melancholy, droopy pink carnations and took the time to find the most beautiful replacements. How many people would do that?
But the flowers weren't the only thing that intrigued me.
It was your delicate, bubblegum pink lips curling into an adorable smirk. It was the way you opened up to me, sharing elaborate details of your life. It was the Lady Gaga singalong in the car. It was the sightseeing trip we took to the beach. It was the intoxicating photoshoot that left me breathless and gave me the confidence to express myself like never before. It was all that and more.
Before I met you, I considered myself the awkwardly lanky kid who looked unappealing and minuscule among a crowd of muscular, athletic guys. When you asked me to be a model and described the stunning way you saw me, I was able to see myself in a whole new light. You gave me the confidence to embrace and respect my pale skin and thin figure. You made me realize that I could find beauty in what others considered ugly.
I apologize for pushing you away without telling you how I felt. Yet seeing you with Naomi broke me, and the only thing I felt in the moment was anger. Maybe you two are happy together. You deserve to be happy. But you can't deny that there's a spark between us, and I'd hate to see it extinguished.
I know writing this letter is a risk, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. And if I'm correct, if you do like me the same why I like you, than I can only hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for how I treated you and that, as soon as you read this, you rush over to my house and tell me how you feel.
Because, Gray, I found myself falling in love with you. All I want to hear is that you found yourself falling in love with me too. Right now, that's what I need more than anything else.
Yours,
Paris
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