Dear Love Meme
It's Spring/Summer whatever season we're in right now (winter for some of you in the Southern Hemisphere), you can happily associate them with love & admiration. Winter for snuggling close to your love in the snow, rubbing noses to keep them warm. Summer time well.. finding a new one and kicking the old worn out model out and getting the new one.
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Comments 15
I love you more than anything. I wish I could keep you. It's killing me that you're far away and you can't be with me, but I know you love me too.
I just wish we could be together again.
I love you more than anything. I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it, until I can have you again.
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I don't quite know whether I'm over you yet, which breaks the hell out of my brain. Whenever I think I might be getting better, I realize exactly why I'm not. Why is it taking so long? Why are we so enchanted by things people we can't have? Why did you have such a ridiculously large effect on me? It's been like six months. It should've faded by now. But I highly suspect the infatuation's still there, somehow, lurking in the background, as always.
I better be over you by the time I move to another country, you fantastic idiot.
Sincerely,
me.
Dear you #2:
I had a nice dream about you the other day. We haven't spoken in ages and I'll probably only see you once this summer. But now, all of a sudden, my crush decides to get worse. I don't understand it.
We don't know each other at all. But you make me laugh 'til I cry. Therefore, I'm a bit crazy for you. I hope I get over you soon too. It's ludicrous.
Sincerely,
me.
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I was so angry at you for a while. Angry at myself for being angry with you, too. Because you are so good to me. So there for me. I wrote you incoherent letters, because I did not know how to string together what I was feeling. And now, here we are again. Back at square one, but I think it's okay. I think we'll be okay, if not right now (because of circumstances, other people, etc), someday, in a few years, we will be.
I would give you the stars and moon,
Me
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Well, this will not be some sad angsting letter, for you my fourth-grade love. This is what is left:
- A hello each morning.
- A shirt you complimented.
- A list of phone numbers scrounged up from the phone book, using only your last name.
-Fierce pride in you, for standing up to her.
-And finally, the stunning knowledge I recieved as an eight year old, that for some people, two people of different races being together, is NOT OKAY.
"Our first loves never really leave us."
Love,
Me
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you're two years younger than me, but i love everything about you. it hurts me so much whenever you invite her to come out with us. i don't think you realize how much i care about you, and i'm too scared to tell you.
i dont know what to do.
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