Dearest,
As I sat at this hour writing this letter over coffee and a whole lot of pimples on my face, I wonder if you ever thought of me as beautiful for a moment or a second, perhaps? I guess not. I have never seen you look at me, the way you look at the girl you've been crushing on. I have seen you laugh, and I have noticed you cry, I have felt the way you felt when you failed that exam. I honestly, will drop my study periods just to hear you cry about yours. But, you never tried.
As I sat at this hour writing this letter over coffee and a whole lot of pimples on my face, I wonder if you ever thought of me as beautiful for a moment or a second, perhaps? I guess not. I have never seen you look at me, the way you look at the girl you've been crushing on. I have seen you laugh, and I have noticed you cry, I have felt the way you felt when you failed that exam. I honestly, will drop my study periods just to hear you cry about yours. But, you never tried.
A fat girl. Scared of commitment. In love with feminism. Always crying at the thoughts of being caged. Would you ever fall in love with a girl like me? I guess not. No one ever dared to touch me without using their hands. I wish you did, on that day when you asked me if I was sad. I would've said, "Yes, I'm sad for loving you from afar". Instead, I said, "Why the hell you care?" Stupid girl.
Love. Everyone mistook it for cheesy relationships, flowers and chocolates, dates and holding hands. A lot of people know what love is but not everyone understands. For me, 'love' is not a word, it is a feeling. It's the way my mom kiss me in the morning, the way my cats meow back when I say "hi" to them, it's the way I get excited when an episode of my favorite series is up, it's listening to music during long drives, it's the rave and the bonfire midnights. It's getting goosebumps during a movie. It's when you drive a bike and all the wind goes through you. It's the way you made me feel, when you touched my hand for the very first time. No, it's the way you made me scared of something, maybe of 'change', 'distance' and the thought of missing you. So I close my eyes and think of love. I wish for that kind of love that makes me see a blue sky even if it's raining.
I wonder if I have ever given you a blue sky when the rain is pouring hard.
I wish I had, but I never tried.
So I'll keep wondering, plucking flower petals, to ascertain whether you love me or not.
He loves me not.
Love,
APP
P.S. Love is writing a letter for someone who might not even read it, but I'll still write it anyway.
Happy Valentine's Day!
APP
P.S. Love is writing a letter for someone who might not even read it, but I'll still write it anyway.
Happy Valentine's Day!
