Monday, December 14, 2009


Dear Boy who acts like a Jerk,

What happened to you? Why can’t you speak to me? Are the memories that I trigger into that shallow head of yours too painful to bear? To be completely honest with you I think it is incredibly immature that you cannot speak to me, and I am not exactly sure why you cannot. Is it because I rejected you? Did I finally downsize that obnoxiously large ego of yours? Or is it the fact that when you look at me you cannot keep to the boundary of friendship? Perhaps this is selfish of me, but I miss our friendship. As wrong as it is to say this, I don’t care about how you can’t be near me without wanting something, I just want to know you’re alive. That you’re happy. That underneath that callousness, there is still a heart that beats. I just want you to talk to me, even if I can’t see you in person, which is probably the best thing to do—avoid real contact, but would emailing or messaging each other be such a bother? I want to share so much with you, about my life, some discoveries I have made, experiences I have had at college and realizations about myself that I have come to. Can you let go of your grudge and let me in, let me into your life again?

Sometimes I really doubt what happened between us. Were you just trying to chase after me for a physical desire and because I turned away from you, you no longer bothered in attempting to sustain a friendship? Or is the real reason, the one I hope it is, that you cannot fathom speaking to me because it will only remind you of what you cannot have? I’m not even sure why I wish that we could be friends again; you never were in it for friendship, and I never considered you just a friend, you were always more. And even though I am fearful that in speaking to you, buried and forgotten emotions may soon again rise to surface, I still would like to hear your voice. I think what has me dying to speak to you again is your eyes. Although you were never generous in displaying how you cared for me, I always saw it in your eye.

I don’t need you to be my best friend, my boyfriend, my admirer. I don't want that. I just need to know that you still care. That what happened between us wasn’t a lie…please dear God don’t tell me it was a lie. Although some may only speak negatively of you, I still cling to the hope that you saw more than me than just a physical attraction. But by you cutting me from your life, I feel abandoned in this darkness. It makes me feel like you really didn’t care about me because if you did, you wouldn’t shut me out the way you are. Don’t you see that even through the damage you have inflicted, I still care about you enough that I wish to hear from you occasionally? After all the lies, the cutting words you spat threw through the phone to me and the incessant flirting with other women, I still care. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

I sincerely hope you’re dating someone, and I hope that she proves me wrong when I said that no other girl would ever care about you the way I did. But then again, she might prove that I was right all along. Maybe no other girl will care for you as much as I have and still do. Although you have hurt me in countless ways, to the point that I fear giving any other male that I meet an inch of trust, I am still here, keeping you in my prayers and caring about you. Because unlike almost every other person in your life, I see beneath the shallow, coldhearted, cruel mask you use to shield your hurt, rejection, abandonment and insecurity. I see you for the person that I’ve grown so deeply to care about, for the real man you are that you never allow anyone else to see.

I don’t care if you’re angry with me or if you hate me with a flaming intensity, because I have learned that it is impossible for me to despise you the way you think I might. I know you better than you think--you want me to hate you, you want me to loathe your existence because then it will justify why we no longer speak. But the truth is this; I will always care about you. No matter how many lies you told me, no matter what words you used to tell me I was self-righteous, no matter how many other girls there may have been---I still care and hope that you’re happy. Truly happy.

So hate me, baby. Hate me and list to yourself all the ridiculous reasons you probably conceived as to why I said “no” to you. Because deep down in that heart of yours that once had feelings for me, there is a man I know well, and although you won’t ever share it or show it, I know that you cannot wrap your head around why a girl like me still cares about you, even after all we’ve been through.

Yours Truly,

who used to be your girl..