Dear Person,
I never thought I would be doing this and yet, here I am – writing you this letter. Of course, you will never read this nor receive a handwritten copy so I’m really *not* doing this. However, I got this idea from a client of mine. Not that I hadn’t heard this before but when she brought it up she made it sound almost magical. I am writing this letter to you. Then I will read it. After that I will read it once more, which will be followed by my decision on whether to send this to you. I know what I’ll decide.
I will never let you read this. Why? Because I’ll look like an obsessive and delusional girl. Wouldn’t want that, now would we? Let’s get started for real this time.
Dear person,
I don’t know you. I only know what you let me see of you, which admittedly isn’t much. Who could blame you? I’m the girl in your class with the resting bitch face that rarely talks to more than one or two people – you not being one of them. You probably think I hate you. I am 90% sure of this. I never start a conversation with you and I rarely smile at you as I pass you in the hallway. If I was you I would definitely think you hated me, and that would intrigue me honestly – that tends to be the effect I have on people. I’ve learned this and I’ve learned to love it and depend on it to make people buy in to this image I’ve created of “mystery girl”. I guess I’ve always been like that but now it’s more pronounced because I’m aware of it. Anyway, this is about you.
I know very few things about you and I honestly don’t find you that interesting or attractive. It’s not you, it’s me. You are probably not a wonderful, charming, kind, humorous and intelligent soul. Who is? Or who the hell knows, you might be. What I’m trying to get at is that I create fantasies and you have become one. I’ve seen our future and it’s not a bad one – compared to others I’ve seen of me with what’s-his-name. This time it’s just you and me, me and you. Two little professionals making the world a better place, one client at a time. You really can’t blame me for the fantasies, though. I am an INFP after all. I have this smaller fantasy that you would smile at me tomorrow afternoon and say “Hey, ___.” *insert crooked smile because those are the only smiles I like* You would make stupid yet funny conversation, notice I did not say conversation about the weather (do that and I’ll literally drop-kick you). Then, you would suggest we go for a coffee date, “Hey, we should definitely talk about this later, like at Starbucks or something.” “Oh, sure! Sounds good.” is what I would say. So then we go on our coffee date. We have a few laughs, many smiles and I leave feeling hopeful and hopeless at the same time. Because no one will ever be enough for me.
Nothing will ever be enough for me. I want too much. So much that no one could possibly satisfy this want – a want I am unable to put into words. Don’t feel too bad… You never really had a chance because I refuse to set myself up for the possibility of another disappointment and heartbreak. Like I said, it’s not you, it’s me.
Anyway, thanks for reading this. Don’t worry about asking me out for the coffee date. It would’ve been amazing at best but knowing me, I would have never let it amount to anything. I saved you from my indecisiveness and from my bitchiness.
You’re welcome.
Except I’m not a bitch. I am indecisive, though, no getting around that!
Anyway, have fun in class and let’s try to not make more eye contact when we accidentally catch each other looking at the other. It’s gotten kind of annoying now, tbh. (and also kind of cute but that’s irrelevant).
Sincerely,
Giving up before I’ve even tried.