Letters To Us

The Twenty-Third Time I Wrote to You

I don't know who I'd ask to come over if the world was ending, I don't anymore. Today feels like one of those days when I think I wouldn't ask any of you; there's only one person that comes up in my mind, and you know him pretty damn well.

But I'm not sure if I wanna talk about him right now, we'll see where this letter takes us. First, I wanna talk about how I'm feeling, and this is a particular thing. I feel jealousy for a person who was never mine to claim, someone who will never be mine. I got angry when I saw the other girls commenting tempting things about him, and I got even angrier when he acknowledged their existence. I felt under appreciated, ugly and useless, and I don't deserve that. You know what? I'm tired of telling myself I deserve better, so much so that sometimes I even wanna scream at myself.

I got too used to this, and I can't do that anymore. There's nothing here other than an awkward friendship and sex. It feels so forced you know? Every time we talk, it's too strange. Imagine two complete strangers having a conversation like they never knew anything about each other, but then in private, they know each other's bodies better than anything else. That's us.

On the other hand, I imagine that we could have a different behaviour, but around him I feel so under control, so behaved, so, not me... And you know damn well I'm not like that, I'm crazy in a good way and I'm tremendously fun to be around.

In the end we'll never be nothing but casual sex and an awkward  friendship, for a few reasons. He doesn't open up easily, and rebuilding all the trust he destroyed without that is almost impossible. Other than that, I don't trust him yet, at least on a level where I feel comfortable, and like I said, when it comes to him, I'm always waiting on the other shoe to drop, so... Yeah.

I hope I bring better news tomorrow.

Love,

Mia