just a little letter from a quiet little girl
9:12 p.m.

M,

You're always joking around. Always. I love the chime of the IM so much. I have to- it's the only way I ever get to communicate with you anymore. Are you joking when you say "find me a woman"? Am I joking when I say "we should hang out sometime"?

The answer is right on the tip of my toungue. It's so obvious. We were both so busy this summer, with our own brainless summer jobs. At least mine was anyway- you have so much talent that you were really able to make a difference, bringing music to the community. And I admire that so much. But every time the IM would chime I'd say "you shouldn't go to work today". You were always so busy, you deserved to take a day off. I wanted you to have fun with your friends. But I also wanted to see you so badly. I wanted desperately to find the courage to tell you that I should be your woman. That I thought maybe that's what you wanted too.

But I'm an idiot. Because I never noticed such a wonderful guy until just this year. Because I never really listened to you talk before, and I never really heard that beautiful, warm voice. Because I think I'm in love and I keep denying it. After all, what would I know of love? I am "sheltered". And shy. And paralyzed with fear, from thoughts like "I'm not good enough for him" or "Why would he ever like me?" or "I'm too boring" or "I'm leaving soon anyway". The thing is, a major reason why I didn't leave sooner is you. I feel like that should make me a terrible person, sacrificing my education for the wrong reasons... or are they really the right ones? I'm so close to happiness. It's like a cage. I can see the sunshine, feel the air. But only secondhand.

January seems so far away, but time creeps by faster than we know it. I just wish I could tell you that I want you to be happy. Long distance relationships never work, right? There's enough distance between us now, and I never see you anyway, so maybe it's all for the best. I should be getting used to it.

But my poor dull heart still clings to that shred of hope that one day, the IM will chime, and I can say "I miss you so much, come see me", and you'll drive over here, knock on the door, put your arms around me and say "Everything's going to be alright". And then we'd drive around for hours, just talking. You don't know the effect you have on this quiet little person with that beautiful warm voice. Then we'd stop, get out of the car, just look up at the stars and I could be courageous and say "You make me the happiest I've ever been, and I love you. I may be everything you're not, but I love you."

Please forgive me if I ramble on too much, or if this makes no sense. It is the childish prattle of a scared little girl hiding in a woman's body. That's me. I just want desperately to be the woman you can love.

S

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