Mr. Nameless

Mr. Nameless

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 57m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Apr 13, 2016
I didn't fall in love with him, exactly. I fell in love with his words. I barely even knew the guy. Hell, I didn't even know the guy, period. I just know his words. His deep and profound understanding. The way he places the right words in the right ways. The way he plays with letters and makes corny puns and stupid jokes, all typed neatly on paper. All the while, I was thinking how much this seemed like it came straight from some kind of shoujo manga. Too good and exciting and lovely to be happening to someone as dull and plain and average as me. But it was true. I'd find a letter addressed to me-- in the same page, in the same book, in the same spot in the library. And everyday I'd read it and fall in love with him even more and sit down with my pen, and begin to write: Dear Mr. Nameless...
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For the first ten years of my life I always imagined myself a princess. I always saw myself being an amazing, and beautiful person. Everyone saw me as a loving girl who just wanted happiness for everyone and only wanted to see people smile. Until the eleventh grade, when my crush Rayan Lopez called me ugly. I adored that boy with everything, since 7th grade, and that was the day.... I realized I wasn't a princess after all. It's amazing how quickly someone can defeat your dream with the utterance of one word. Whoever said words don't hurt, must have never experienced this. Twenty years later, I cringe whenever I hear it and am immediately brought back to that rainy afternoon when the love for myself diminished. That's why when I opened up my mail and found an invitation to my high school reunion... I nearly passed out.

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