Letter No. 1

I still remember so much about you.

I remember you singing a Blur song to annoy people. I used to laugh at that, not because I thought you were a weirdo, but because you were amusing.

I don’t think you even knew who I was then.

I didn’t even realize how cool you were for knowing who Blur was.

We became friends later. Not great friends, we didn’t hang out all the time but you were a good choice to talk to during classes. I’d like to think you thought the same about me.

I still remember all those lame things I thought up. Memory books, dumb poems, and that sort of shit.

If you thought I was lame, you never showed it.

You wrote poems too. I always thought yours were so much better than mine. That never stopped me from trying to impress you. If you were impressed, you never showed it.

You left for a while. You told me you weren’t coming back.

I don’t know if you thought you really weren’t coming back or you just thought it would be funny to say that. It wasn’t so funny to me.

I said, “Fuck it, if he’s not coming back, I might as well tell him.” So I did. I told you I loved you. I hoped with all my heart that you would say you loved me too.

You didn’t. You tried to let me down easy. It still hurt.

You came back.

I wanted to run away from you. When I saw you the day you came back, I turned around and walked away. I tried not to see you.

You found me anyway. I tried my hardest to act normal, like nothing changed between us. We both knew everything had.

I heard you were dating. I wanted so badly to hate her but I couldn’t. I knew that if you were with her then she was good. Instead, I wondered what she had that you didn’t see in me.

I wish you could have seen me at my coolest, when I knew who Blur was, when my hair was pink, when I rocked out to Fall Out Boy. But you didn’t.

I’m happier now and I think you are too.

Most people think that the first love is mutual. Not for me. You were it.

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