A New Yearn

Dear P,

If I'd have the chance to talk to you again, I'd begin by saying that I think about you everyday. Heaven knows I try NOT to, considering that I'm the Stupid One between the two of us; but someone like you is difficult to forget. I have no right to think about you.

Then I'd ramble on to say that no one's loved me the way you did. The meals you've made were always peppered with care. The conversations we've had were always punctuated with hope. The dreams we've drawn together were shaped by y/our love.

I'll probably look away so it wouldn't sound too cliche when I'd tell you that you're forever-material, that you're the one everyone dreams of waking up with to have a blissful week ahead, and coming home to at the end of a difficult day. That you're the one worth choosing to grow old with. That you're the person I'd choose to be with if my life were to end tomorrow.

I'll launch into a litany of excuses and explanations on why I'm such an @s$- which I won't expect you to believe and buy. I will try to be sincere- I would really be- when I'd tell you why I gave up on us in favor of just a me.

I wouldn't tell you that I'd want another chance to be called yours. I'd endure your probable expression of pain and misery courtesy of me beginning that infamous January day, if that will lead to a glimmer of a possibility of being a twosome again- which I will not express out loud of course.

Because I'm a coward, a selfish wuss, who needs to get a pair of balls of my own.

*hayayay*

Instead, I'll probably just thank you again for dinner, and for being civil, and for resisting the urge to shred me to smithereens. I'll probably attempt to hold your hand and look into your eyes to communicate a year's worth of...

Longing,