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Submitted on
December 31, 2013


26 (who?)
You may have noticed that I didn't begin my letter with the word, "dear".
It's not because I hate you, or formalities, or cliches.
In fact, it's quite the opposite.
It's because, as much as I hate admitting,
my heart skips a beat at the thought of giving you such a title.

My heart skips a beat at the thought of giving you anything but that title.

You haven't held a magnifying glass to my chest, so I'm assuming you'd never understood
how much I really loved you.
I was the quiet kind, the one who preferred the side of the room, and not the center.
The one who kept their hair in front of their eyes, to avoid meeting your glances, as well as everyone else's.
It was hard enough to say hello to random people, let alone to you.
And, when I did say it, I found it was drowned out by the shouting, the talking, and the annoying bickering of others.
So, I stopped saying hello.

You might be asking why I chose to write to you--or, at least in my head, you are.
In my head, you know who I am, where I am, and what I'm doing.
We exchange words as good friends do, but not much more.
My love is unrequited, as friends are to be just that--friends.
And friends care about other friends, so they ask about each other.

I'll answer your question, since you're so curious, so eager to know about me.
We are friends after all, aren't we?

"Why do you write to me?" you say.

And, as in all of our conversations, I reply, "I write to you because I care about you."

You smile while saying, "Why, of course you care. It's what friends are supposed to do."

In the pinnacle of our imaginary talk, this is when I say it.
This is when I say what I've always wanted to say.
I breathe in, depressing the nervousness within. I try as best I can to swallow the lump in my throat. It pulses, it jumps, and I assume it's my heart.
I open my mouth slowly, weigh my lungs down with air, and say,

"I care for you so much more than a friend ever could. It wouldn't be enough, it wouldn't satisfy me, to be only your friend. It wouldn't satisfy me because I love you."

You stare at me in bewilderment for a half an hour though it could be 30 seconds, because I'm so nervous, I can't keep track of time.
And then, it happens.
You look at me with loving eyes, lock me into a warm hug, and treat me as more than a friend.

This is how my thinking-bubble always ends. The same scene plays in the exact same way, over and over, and it ends the same way.
It's a movie that tickets are too expensive for.
A movie that I'd never be able to see, in full color, with front row seats.
It stays in black and white, and I always sit in the back of the theater, if I do get in.

I wish it to be true. I want it to happen.
I know it can't.
But, the least I can do is write to you.

I put this into a tiny envelope, and bought a few postage stamps. The envelope and stamps taste so bitter, with the adhesive that's used to keep them sealed. It can't be as bitter as how I might feel, but it's a pretty close comparison.
For :iconletters-to-myself: (a contest entry)
I hope I'm not late on the deadline again, since I almost always am.

You might be wondering /aha/ if I wrote this for anyone I know, or anyone I love. 
I don't have a crush or anything, but if that were true, it's not like I'd tell you guys MWAHAHA.
Just kidding. But really, I don't have a crush. 
You can finish the story. Make a guess as to whether this person sends the letter or not. Heck, you can assume they killed their special someone, if you want to. Be creative! 
However, since this is a "letter to self" sort of thing, you can also assume they never sent the letter, and were just coping with their feelings.
I hope you liked this piece. I liked it a lot. I always had a problem with expressing my feelings to anyone or thing, so I'm sure I'd react in this same way, as well. 
You might be wondering /aha, see what I did again?/ why I also mentioned "antiseptic". 
You can make other guesses, but I guess I was just trying to say that no matter how much you may try to heal this person's wounds,
they'll just burn even more.
Oh, I hate rubbing alcohol. Ouch.

Once again, Happy New Year to you! 
I love you guys! 

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suruwaippa Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Oh, my. This is really touching.. I don't really know how to respond. The last two sentences really... fuck, someone please hand me a tissue :cry:
Miellat Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2014  Student Writer
suruwaippa Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Miellat Featured By Owner May 5, 2014  Student Writer
/hugs HEREYOUGO ;;;;;;
melon-lolly Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2014  Student Digital Artist
 honor sister you bring to our famiry i am proud of yuu:iconsadwindowcreepernplz:
Miellat Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2014  Student Writer
Sankyuu sister, I am proud to bring honor to ze famiry :iconpapcryplz: :heart:
CelestialMemories Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Oh goodness. I was just left with the coldest shivers after this piece. It was beautiful and it took my breath away. I'm just...I don't even know what to possibly say that could even be up to par with how I feel with this. 

It's a movie that tickets are too expensive for. 
A movie that I'd never be able to see, in full color, with front row seats.
It stays in black and white, and I always sit in the back of the theater, if I do get in.

That's just. Oh goodness. :faint: 

Beautiful, beautiful job. :star:
Miellat Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you! I'm so glad people found this to be touching! It meant a lot to me, aha.
Some poems just don't feel right, but I felt something very strongly when writing this one, so I'm glad that feeling was acknowledged.
Oh, it makes me so proud to hear people say such nice things! C: :heart:
WhiteHeartFlame Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Aaww. . . :iconcryinplz: It's lovely, but sad at the same time. Wonderful job, as usual! ^^
Miellat Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you! This was really sad for me to write, in a way /aha :iconyuicryplz: I felt so sorry for this person, but I guess the fun of writing is you get to play God. Thanks for your constant support, by the way! ; 7 ;
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