As I Am ✔️

03: A Letter Of Uncertainty

Isla | Jackson

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Jackson.

I heard that you won last week's football game — congrats — although we both know that the poor suckers NEVER had a chance.

As you've probably noticed, I thought I'd start with something trivial, as the last letter I sent you wasn't exactly simple — not that I'm sure that this will be either.

I'll admit that your letter has made it a little easier and a little harder to reply to you, because whilst your honest words encourage me to respond, your lack of criticism or reluctance when addressing my letter has convinced me that this might be your idea of a hilarious joke that I still haven't caught onto yet.

Perhaps I'm ignoring that thought on that purpose for reasons that you and I are both aware of, does that make me stupid?

Perhaps it would be easier to say that the letter you received was in-fact a practical joke of my own, and yet I don't? I continue to wonder why.

Anyway, because we're on the topic, and because you asked, no, if you tried to make a toilet joke in class I would most certainly NOT laugh, but that doesn't mean I'd laugh if your letters were proven to be a part of some kind of sadistic joke either — I don't care if you used toothpaste as hair gel, I still don't trust you.

I must ask you this however, for somebody so popular, so liked, so central in the school society, how can your daily routine be banal?

Other than that, I would never have thought that I could leave you with questions, I'm almost glad that I did, but now I'm convinced that you're asking them in order to further make fun of me.

I won't tell you what makes me laugh, partly because I wouldn't be able to tell you if I tried as my sense of humour is often subjective as well as relative to my then current circumstances, but mostly because it's something I feel you would attempt to discover without my help if you were that interested.

Your other question stumped me more than the last. How did I come to the resolve that you were serious? Also, how does that fit in with what I now suspect of you?

Does any of this make sense?

Of course my observations of your character — and whether your character is in-fact mature or immature — are purely that, observations. In honesty, I don't actually know you, and I've never had a meaningful conversation with you face-to-face, but then I guess you have to draw the line on your interactions with me to protect your own popularity.

I wish I could say I understood those motives, but I don't, sorry.

You should know, you didn't have to flatter me the way you did, as I wrote the letter to you out of frustration because — pitifully — I didn't think I could face my feelings for you on my own, not because I wanted you to repay the favour out of obligation.

I wrote that letter to you thinking I knew who you were, expecting that you would ignore it, or laugh at it, make fun of me for it even, typical teenage guy stuff . . . I didn't expect you to reply, I didn't expect you to be honest, or earnest, and because I didn't expect it, I'm convinced that you have ulterior motives in replying to my letter — and yet, my feelings still remain . . .

In conclusion, answer me this. Why do I still feel the same way about you, despite now doubting your sincerity? Surely that should matter to me? Were the comments about me in your letter honest? Were they supposed to make my heart beat faster, make it jump, flip, stop?

Was that your mission? If so, you should know that you were successful, but why did you do it? Were you looking for humour, or for the depth that I often tell myself lies in your eyes?

Explain it to me.

Isla.