Dear You || #ToAllTheBoysContest

Dear Sam

Dear Sam,

I'm not really sure how I feel about you, but it doesn't feel very platonic. You've been my closest friend for about a year now, and I've always known that you're extremely cute but I've never thought much about it.

I mean, until now.

See, these past couple months I've just gone kind of crazy, I think. It's just that, every time you run your hands through your maroon hair and your eyes flash to mine my heart does a little flip. Or when you get really excited about something and go "Angel, Angel, what do you think?" and for the love of me I can't wipe the smile off my face.

You're one of the only people, if not the only person, that I trust with everything and anything in the world. I don't wanna ruin that, I mean how could I? Ruining this friendship would ruin me.

Because when I have the worst days of my life I just talk with you and suddenly it's not such an awful day, you know? And when you sit with me on my bed every other weekend as we talk about things ranging from buzzfeed unsolved dialogs to the meaning of life, it gives me life. It gives me hope.

I don't want hope, though. I want you.

I want you as a bestfriend, I want you to cuddle with me, and let me make you hot coco and give you part if my food and let me hold your hand when we walk places and lean my head on your shoulder during lunch. I get it though, I understand why it won't happen.

1.) You're a literal god. For the life of me, I swear you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. When I look at you, it's like seeing a celestial being. You've got a sharp jawline that could cut steel, and warm chocolate eyes that hold promises of happiness and warmth. Your voice is always hopeful, even when you call me crying when you're not feeling your 100%. You've got the body of the most beautiful person. I promise, I've never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life.

2.) Your girlfriend, you like her a lot. Like, a LOT a lot. You layed on my bedroom floor using my instagram account on my phone to video chat her for the first time as I sat on my bed trying not to let the jealousy eat away my heart. I listened as you joked with her and smiled and ran your hands through your hair nervously. Third wheeling taken to an extreme, am I right? You would look at me every once in a while to make sure I wasn't too bored and I would have to muster up enough energy to smile and give a thumbs up. I think you felt that there was something wrong. Too sweet for your own good. She's better than me for you. She's pretty, smart, sarcastic, incredibly strange, and kind. I like her, she's good. Even if I'm always a little more than jealous of her.

3.) We're exact opposites in almost every way. I love that, because I always get a different viewpoint with you, even if sometimes they're bad. Like when you pronounce gif the wrong way. It's cute. Alas, I don't think you want to date a person that's always got a different opinion, and a different point of view. I feel like you'd get tired.

That's why I know you wouldn't say yes if I asked you out. That's why I know that even if you did say yes and broke up with your girlfriend and dated me we wouldn't work out. My dad always tells me you miss every shot you don't shoot, but sometimes it's better to pass the ball to another player when you know you can't make it, if that makes any sense.

So here I am, writing a letter to you through wattpad. Pathetic, huh? I don't care, though. This is me, locking those feelings away in a tight box, and storing it in the back of a dusty cedarwood closet that nobody will find again unless searched for. Trust me, nobody will search for this box. This is me, telling you I won't ruin this, even if I fucking kill myself in the process, because I value you over these stupid feelings.

So, cheers to being friends, I suppose.

Love,

Angel

Two Years Later

Dear Sam,

If you stumble upon this letter like you stumbled upon the first, do me a real one and don't read it. Or do, but just pretend that you didn't. Please. 

It's been about eight months since we broke up. I was the one that broke it off, but you never realized that I never stopped loving you. I can't remember a single night I haven't stayed up thinking about you. Or crying, for that matter. I scroll through our past conversations like it's a ghost town all the time, it's so pathetic. I thought it would get easier to deal with this heartache, but it hasn't. I wake up every morning thinking I can text you a quick "Good morning Mr. Sunshine :)" like I used to do every morning. Every time I see a pick-up line I get a jolt remembering that I can't send them to you anymore.

I should have done so much more when we were together. I should have tried harder, been there more, I don't know. I just...I just knew deep down that I was never good enough for you. Ever since the first day we started dating, I always had a voice in the back of my head telling me I wasn't good enough for you. I wasn't smart enough, I was too fat, not talented enough, not successful enough, or funny enough, or kind enough. I didn't tell you I loved you enough, I couldn't touch you enough. How could I trap you with someone like me? Wouldn't I just cause you pain in the future? Misery? You would hate me. You probably do hate me. That's ok though, that's ok.

I'm in so much pain, it hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much? Is this what love is like? My heart is in my throat and it's been choking me for eight months. I can't even look at you anymore. Please don't look at me anymore. How am I supposed to live without you? I don't think I've felt any other emotion except for love for eight months, but why isn't it beautiful? It's so painful. It's so pathetic. 

When we broke up, it was like you didn't even care. You didn't even flinch, you didn't even seem unhappy. Did you ever love me? 

I hope you did.

I hope you're happier now, sincerely I do. I hope whatever his name is treats you a million times better than I ever could. I wish I could've loved you the way you needed me to. I hope he keeps lists of all the things you like and dislike like I did, and I hope he remembers the names of all the K-Pop people you like, like I never could. I hope he can touch you more easily. I hope he makes you feel safe. I hope he makes you feel loved.

On the off chance that you read this, please do me a last favor, for old times sake. Please give me back my old heart, because this broken little thing can't possibly be the one I had when you were mine. 

Love,

Angel