Unsent Letters

Dear You,

Early this morning I dreamt about you, about us. Just like all my other dreams (yes, they have become quite numerous and frequent to ignore,) it was about you realizing that you had made a mistake; that it was me all along that you wanted to be with. And like all my other dreams, I woke up feeling all warm inside. It’s that feeling you get when you’re hugged real tight, like no one can harm you and no one can break you. A few minutes after, it turned to that familiar feeling of confusion, and then sadness. It dawned on me that it was all just a dream, and you were still with someone else.

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A Letter for You.

Maybe I’m just bored. Or maybe not.

Ever since Law School started, I’ve been kinda out of it in the love life department (not that I was totally IN it anyway.) Maybe this is just boredom, but now that I’m not doing anything, I find myself thinking about you more often and why I can’t seem to treat you like just any other normal friend. Honestly, I hate that I’m even thinking about this. Heck. I can’t even believe that I’m writing about this. Maybe you’ll see this one day, and you’ll finally know where I’m coming from, because honestly, there is no way you’ll get this out of me personally.

It’s been two years. Two years of me trying to convince myself that I’m over you and that you’re just a good friend to me now. Well, a friend that I spend so much money on (not what you’re thinking), so much effort and so much patience on. People who have known me longer cannot believe I do all those things for you. It’s very unlike me to be spending this much effort on someone, and yet I do, for you. All so that you’ll forget whatever it is that ails you, and so that you feel better about yourself.

You have your issues. I have mine. I was and still am willing to forego all of mine just to help you with yours. Call it the Jesus Christ syndrome, but in my head, because I knew I was the stronger person, I felt like I needed to be there for you, to help you pull yourself up. I’m even willing to go to the extent of pulling you up myself, if only you’ll let me. I don’t know why I’m like this. I can’t even emphasize enough how much I am annoyed at myself for this.

I should have moved on by now. Hello, it’s been two years. Two years of my ego being shot down each time I see you because you can’t or won’t realize that I’m the right person for you. Can you blame me for hoping that one day, you’ll realize that? Because I know that I am. I can feel it deep inside. Two years ago, I felt this underneath all my aching muscles. I still feel it now. You may not be the right person for me, but I know I’m the right person for you. I hate that even at your age, you’re still so preoccupied with the shallow things in life. I hate that you fail to see the obvious just because you prefer to remain blinded by what you think is important in life. And yes, I hate that you dropped me, just like that, because of ONE thing that I would have been willing to give up, had you asked me to.

Well, whatever. Not that it matters now. You do whatever you want.

This is my new thing — I’m really trying not to care. I hope though that you’re not too self-obsessed to not notice. Or else.. I don’t know.