A Letter To That Guy I Never Really Let Go Of

Woman makng a shopping list in her kitchen

To that guy,

Honestly you’ll probably never know that I’ve had a thing for you for so long. And in long, I mean years. I never really wanted to admit it at first, constantly denying that I didn’t have feelings for you because… I don’t know, I just thought the idea was stupid. And because I knew it was all just pure infatuation, all one-sided, and that as much as I hoped, you wouldn’t ever feel that way about me.

And the thing is, nothing ever really happened between us – we never dated, we never had a ‘moment’ it was all just in my head – you know fairy tale stuff. But you knew of me, and for a while I just bumped into you, or you bumped into me. It was always platonic. But the way you spoke to me, the way you listened, the way you smiled – that was what caught me off guard. It was probably you just being polite and charismatic. But it felt right, and it felt good.

There are times of course when I wonder “What if?”, “What if we ended up together?” How my mind races with possibilities. I think it’s because I just kept holding onto the random details over the years when we happened to be around each other – the things you remember about me that I even wouldn’t even pick up on, or the things I remember about you… The wholehearted way you laugh, the way you’d take interest in what I do, your soft cologne and cigarette scent.

Shit, how do you have that effect on me?

What’s harder is the mutual history – the friends who say there could be something there between us. Am I supposed to believe in the hope of their comments, or shrug it off? The story, if things ever happened and it got penned, would be quite the tale. There I go again… You know, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve bumped into you so briefly and just feel buzzy, even days after that moment – you’ve stung me.

So I just keep my distance and watch on, because I can’t believe in possibilities forever.

Over the years there have also been other women who have stolen your heart, and women you have loved so fervently – I can’t compete with that. You don’t look at me the way you do when you’re with her. You don’t have my hand in your hand. You just don’t.

At the end of all of this though, the only answer I’d need is “Yes” or “No”. Do you like me? Because I like you more than I should, and one day I just need to let you go.

Your sincerely,

G

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