I’m going to skip the How are you and you look good in that blue shirt and those ray-bands and get straight to writing all the things I can’t say to that blue v-neck and those protective shades.
For starters, think about the things you say to me. Don’t say things that hurt, unless your intent is to hurt me-but that is another paragraph. I am funny. I am a nice girl. I am a good friend. I am not a liar. I am not any of your stereotypes. If I smoke every day until I am too high to move and drink three fifths for breakfast on Tuesdays and Thursdays you still shouldn’t tell me I’m an addict until it is a last resort. I am not a workaholic just because I work more hours in a week then you have in your lifetime, and appreciate the fact that I always manage to see you when you want to be seen. I am a good poet. I am not prude just because I will not sleep with you. I am not a tease because I am indecisive, or because I am scared. I am not crazy just because you don’t understand me. I am not a bad driver just because your dad is a better one. Know that as hard as I have tried to think nothing of the mean things you have said, my mirror spits them up at me every single morning.
Don’t take advantage of me. Don’t leave your trash in my car. Don’t borrow money you don’t intend to pay back. Don’t smoke my herb with my pipe exclusively. Don’t assume I am going to pay for your dinners, movies, and gas. You have no right to ask just because you know I can’t tell you no. Do not think you are tricking me when you guilt me into buying you stupid stuff or taking you places either. Don’t use me for unreciprocated oral sex. Respond to all of my text messages as I do yours, not just the ones specifically about you. Make our relationship mutual. Make me believe that I am worth a smidgeon of the effort I give you.
Can we have more time together doing nothing? Can we cuddle? Can we hold hands and not make strings and attachments? Will you be the first boy to feel those two new piercings and to kiss those nasty scars? I miss unbuttoning your sleeves and kissing your fingers. Call me all those derogatory pet names I’m ashamed to love again. Try and remember telling me that you like the way I look with my hair down. Ask me to look at you some more. Smile down at me, cause you know it is suggestive. Give my inbox a couple of the kind of messages a good girl hides again. Hold me. Tell me you like holding me. Let me please you, and tell me I feel good. Forgive me for every time I have said no, and being indecisive and scared. Let those hands teach me to trust you. Don’t let them hurt me.
Don’t feel bad for making me cry. Feel bad for doing what you did to make me cry. Don’t be sorry you said you were embarrassed, be sorry you were. Don’t apologize for sadness that isn’t your fault either. It isn’t your fault the world uses me. Nor that I get in fights with my parents. Take some responsibility for what you do have a part in though; am I really not funny? Make an effort not to use me when you know how much it hurts when other people do. Don’t apologize when you aren’t sorry. Don’t feel obligated to apologize just because you know what you have done is wrong. Forgive yourself for everything you’ve ever been genuinely sorry for, but don’t forget why you were sorry you did those things. Don’t do them again. Show me when youre sorry, as much as I hate to say it, you’ve lied too many times for me to trust your words alone. Don’t be sorry when you see me crying, because you’ve been the cause of a million more tears behind the scenes. Just make an effort to concern yourself with my well-being and be sorry for being inconsiderate.
Know that I adore you. I will defend you with every fiber of my being for as long as you allow me to. I love so many of your attributes and I am so amazed by your talents and your intellect. I am honored to know you. I struggle through so much of our dynamic yet I am delighted by the idea of you. You are the natural light in my dimly fluorescent existence. You are hilarious. You are a nice boy. You are not a liar though you have told more lies than anyone else I know. You are so forgivable. You are so loveable. Maybe it’s just the v-neck.
It’s too bad you’ll never see this letter.