Dear You,
Today is January 10, 2020. And I feel guilty. And I shouldn't. You're not the one that I love, but you love me. And it's killing me. Because I know that feeling. The feeling of loving someone who isn't yours and wishing that they were. You only want the best for me, but knowing that you love me is killing me. I've always been a people pleaser. And I'm told I have a kind soul and a kind heart. But right now, I feel like I don't. I feel like somehow, I'm hurting you. You've told me that I'm the love of your life and that you're always thinking of me and you miss me when I'm gone. But the only reason I'm thinking of you is because I feel guilty. I wish I could make you stop feeling this way because it's not fair that you're in love with someone who is in love with someone else. But it is what it is. And you do. And I wish that you didn't. Because then I wouldn't feel suffocated. But I do. I don't want to hurt you. I want you to find someone who loves you because you are an amazing person. But you're like a brother to me. And that's all you will always be. So I'm sorry. And I wish I could make it go away. Because I love you, but only as a friend.
Sincerely,
Me
YOU ARE READING
Dear You
Short StoryThis is just a collection of letters I write to random people but without their knowledge and without ever stating their name. YOU is many different people. Friends, family, boyfriends, exes, whoever. It's just for whatever. So enjoy if you want to.
