Hi. I’ve been wanting to say a couple of things to you for a long time, but whenever I had the chance to say them out loud, I somehow couldn’t form the words. So I decided to do what I do best, write them instead.
This is not a letter about how much I love you, or how much you mean to me. Because you know all of that already. And, I know that you love me too. And I also know how much. I’m the first-and sometimes, only- person you tell stuff to. I’m the person you call bursting with news because you couldn’t wait another minute to tell me. I’m the person that saves you from yourself, the one that is always there for you. I’m the one that keeps all of your broken pieces glued together.
And you’re all those things for me, too. You’re there for me. You’re there for all the important things. And, I wish that were enough. But, it’s not. I
want need you to be there for the unimportant things, too. The little things that do not matter, I need you for those, too.
I hate the fact that you take me for granted. Hate the fact that you think I won’t go anywhere. And, I hate myself more because it’s true. I hate that your problems always overshadow mine. For once in your life, I want you to stop talking about your life, and really pay attention to what’s happening in mine. Even if it’s not interesting, even if you’re bored out of your mind, I want you to just.. Listen. And, I hate that I keep hoping for this to happen, even though I more than likely know that it won’t. I want you to be the kind of friend that I am to you.
I know you’re probably never going to read this. I guess it’s one of the main reasons I had the courage to write this. And, truth be told, I don’t want you to read this. Because I’m scared of what might happen if you do. About what comes after that. Because, no matter what, I don’t think I want there to be an end.
–Still all the love in the world, R