Dearest,

I saw cheerleaders for the first time in my life today. They're American, just like the basketball team that came here. I'm not sure why, though.
We were all excited. It's not often that foreign people visit this small town; why would they want to go here at all?

Out of a crazy coincidence, there were Japanese girls in the cafeteria who asked us questions. They took pictures as well.

We're close to summer now. It won't be long until we leave this school for good and move on to another. So we watched old videos from our first year here; we laughed until we cried at how much we have changed.

But nothing that I've seen today - extraordinary or not - affects me as much as seeing you. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

As I just look out through the window of our car, I notice that someone in the distance. I hate myself for recognizing you from so far away, I hate myself for remembering exactly how you look when you walk, how you hold the bike next to you, what gestures you use when talking to your friend.
I get that funny feeling. As if staring until my eyes sting. As if everything is in black and white, but you. As if there was a spotlight on you; a light surrounding you. You will never be just one in the crowd to me.

Our car approaches and I want to tell mom to drive another direction, I want to close my eyes, I wish that I had never seen you - but suddenly change my mind. I'm playing with fire now. It'll be fun until I get hurt; but it'll be worth it.

You're so beautiful, did I ever tell you enough times? You're still so damn beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

And the next second, I can't help but start to cry. The tears came before I had time to think at all; I'm stupid enough to do so.

You know that I've always been good at self-analyzing. You knew me too well.
But right now, I'm lost. I have no idea what I really do feel.
A part of me wishes to say, god it still hurts, to make me seem dramatic. To trick myself miracles do happen; that I might get close again. To trick myself I'm still in love, just to give me some sort of excitement. Who am I kidding? Thinking of you isn't the same anymore. It doesn't involve hope of the same sort.

What can I say? I'm pissed off because we let the world destroy us. And I'm pissed off because I never get over you. I'm sad because I'll probably never talk to you again; maybe only see you through fucking windows, or if I actually will, there won't be anything to say.

But I'm happy. Because you are. It's a cliché but it's true; it makes me glad when you look fine. I really hope you are.
And I'm happy for what we had. I'm happy there's always someone who guarantees my heart skipping a beat, my breath going away, my self-control loosing, my knees getting weak.

And this is not poetic like it should be. It's not as beautiful as it should be. It's not telling the story very good at all. But these are my feelings, right now. They will change a thousand times again.

I care for you. I miss you. You make me proud. I love you.

... but I'm going to change my mind about everything else.
Posted on May 29th, 2009 at 12:38pm

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