Dear You

A letter I wrote, but never sent, to a girl I used to know.

Dear You

 

Chances are we'll never see each other again. I always knew it would happen. You assured me it wouldn't, right from the beginning you said we would be together. Always. I almost believed you for a while. But it was inevitable, right? From the very start, we both knew we were going to have different lives. Don't misunderstand me. I'll miss you. A lot. I'll miss being able to talk to somebody and know they understand me. I'll miss sending my words to somebody, with the knowledge that they will always understand the hidden meaning. I'll miss somebody knowing me. Just knowing me.

Sadly, missing you won't keep you here. Like I said; we're going different ways. At times, I wonder what the years would have been like if the confessions had never come. 'Before' was horrible. We hadn't seen eye to eye and I had been horrid to you. Blamed R on you, made it your fault in my head. But then things changed when Before became After. Don't try and deny it. You know they did. Just the day before I'd been sending you cruel notes and suddenly I found us emailing, texting and talking. All because you had a secret that I wanted to know. I knew it from the beginning. I'm not stupid and you aren't subtle. I knew before you spouted off all those clues that I begged for. I knew long before you guessed I was playing you. 

I didn't ever say it because I didn't understand it. Me? Why me? I was cruel to you, I was harsh and cold and we barely knew each other beyond my own cruel taunts. I realise I never did ask you that question, but it's only because you would never have given me an answer.  So we emailed, we texted, we talked and I came to realise that you were so much more than I had thought. We had things in common. You understood me. I understood you.

Then came the visits, the ones R questioned me about later. I didn't say a word because I didn't feel anything and I told you so too. But it was awkward after that. Awkward silences, glances and feelings. I wanted that natural understanding back because with you, I didn't have to explain anything, you just knew. And that was awful to lose. I was back to explaining things to everyone again and having nobody to understand.

It happened again. A second After. A second chance at the perfect understanding- nothing more and nothing less. It was exactly like the first time in that respect; there were no feelings involved, it was just the perfect understanding, the thing I'd craved ever since the first ending. But it ended like the first time too. Suddenly. Swiftly. It left nothing, we just snapped away from each other like a clean break. We couldn't be friends. Not with the huge mess we'd made of each other, ourselves and our quasi-relationship.

We had a third time. It wasn't just the perfect understanding though; there was something else we dragged into it. I don't remember what it was, but it didn't matter because the third time ended too and I'd almost given up hope.

There were no more Afters. Not really. There were whispered confessions, emails, texts, calls and hugs. We didn't just sign out of each others lives like we had before. Heck, there were even kisses. The first time was a proposition played cleverly on my part. I wanted it and guessing games have always been my strong point. You know that. Bleeding had never been my first desire; the only thing on my mind had been the very thing you wanted too. You must have known that. It was wonderful.

There was the kiss in the rain, the one that was only just a kiss. So cliché and chaste. Barely there and easily forgotten. But I will never forget.

That's where the story ends. Just like that. It wasn't a good ending or a bad ending. It just... was.

Nothing was wrong. It just ended, like I always said it would. Like we always knew it would

But I can't bring myself to regret a second of what happened. It was all worth it.

The pain, the happiness, the humiliation, the blood, the kisses, the love and every single word we ever wrote was worth it.

Just for the perfect understanding.

 

Love,

 Me