Letters that they'll never read.
Dear P,
I just wanted to write and tell you that you're selfish. I know what you wanted and I know what you were after... You didn't get it from me so you made up some bullshit about how things were all confusing in your life. Yeah, right. Bite me. I don't hate you... I'm disappointed that you ran from me so quickly. I think you could have been my escape... I think we could have been something great. I think we could have been really happy together.
Every time I see you online, I want to message you. But I refrain because I decided a while back that I would wait for you to come to me. And you have on two occasions... dropped me an IM and drizzled it with light chit-chat. I wish things could go back to how they were. I miss texting you. It didn't even have to go into a relationship. You're a good friend. Or were, at this point. I shouldn't care, I should just let it all go... But that night, on our date, our only date... I was truly happy.
I guess sometimes we just have these instances in our lives, these experiences that you only have once, for a split second, and then it's gone again. Only, you're not completely gone. I think about you when I make white mochas and when I see a Mustang or when I see the ticket stub to that movie hanging on my wall.
At any rate, I hope you're enjoying life. I hope you have much happiness and love in your life... I wish only greatness for you.
Best wishes,
Me
Dear Strawberry,
I know you don't care now. But I do think you cared then. I have nothing really to say to you other then I hope that your new wife brings you all the happiness in the world. I know I probably talked my fair share of shit behind your back, but enough is enough. I'm letting the past go and just telling you to... have a good life. Be happy. Treat your wife well.
Sincerely,
Me
That's all that needs to be said for now...
I'm feeling better, but not entirely.
I feel... incomplete.