Thank you for showing me how to love a fish taco, even though I swore to loathe all seafood. I’m grateful that you showed me music that makes me think – not necessarily of you, but of the way you moved my life. It was me and you, and now you seem more distant then the day we met.
It’s all unfair and I don’t understand. Everything is so beautiful and so short. Like the waves that crashed when we went to the ocean; and the seconds you held my hand when the waves got too strong. Like all the faces we passed at Disneyland; and yet, all I managed to see was you.
It was all so small, but somehow meant the world to me. You and I are pieces of the same puzzle, and I guess I assumed that meant we fit together.
You and I weren’t meant to love, but I thank God that we met. Your friendship has made me strong. It has made me accept things for the way they are, and to trust that God knows what He is doing.
Though selfishly, I wanted you. I liked you for your beauty and they way you stood next to me, I was attracted to your strength and the career you are pursuing.
I wish I could say that we had something special, but you don’t even know my favorite poem or board game. You don’t know the small list of things that make me cry, you don’t know why I question myself, or why I pretend to be shy.
I’m sorry that I thought we needed to be more than friends. I wish I could say I know all those things about you; but I’m just as guilty. I don’t know where you go to be alone, I don’t know why you are full of so many random facts, or why you seem so shut off to others. I wish I got to know you better. You’re busy now, and that’s fine; I’m fine.
To the boy who I used to dream of, I wish you the best. I hope the next time you buy a girl fish tacos, she’ll know the words to say that I didn’t. I hope she finds out why you hate scary movies, and why you’re so passionate about recycling. I hope the two of you will find a lifetime of happiness, like the kind I had for those first few weeks.