Today I got a letter.
It's from her.
I should throw it away.
Save us all the trouble.
Maybe I could pretend I never sent that letter...
Yes. I could get away with that right?
But I don't throw away the letter.
I open it with shaky hands.
I read it with teary eyes.
Are they tears of relief?
Pain?
Regret?
Anger?
Or dare I say it...love?
I read it over and over again.
Because surely I couldn't have just read this.
Surely she did not write this?
She says, it's okay.
She claims I am confused.
Am I?
No one could love her.
And it's cruel to make her think otherwise and to give her false hope.
Why does she think so lowly of herself?
She says she loves me, if that's important for me to know.
She say's she can't. We can't happen.
Why not? I wonder to myself.
So what kind of tears do I shed?
I'm not sure.
She is right about one thing: I'm confused.
Is this love?
Was it ever?
YOU ARE READING
Foolishly (Lesbian Story)
ChickLitWe were in love. Completely, utterly, and foolishly in love. And we let it all crumble. We say we couldn't. That we didn't. And we were foolish. Two friends, two lovers, and now? Now we are two strangers who were too foolish to know what we had and...
