Dear:
You,
I've
been feeling down lately and it's not even because of how I don't
have the slightest chance with you. I'm afraid I don't have the
slightest chance with anybody. I know, I know. This is some pretty
lame emo bullshit again but that's just how I feel right now. The
fact is, the more I get to know you, the more I see how [cliched-ly]
perfect you are- the more I see myself not worthy of you. And this is
where things get more shitty complicated. You see, I know that if
ever you were mine, I would go through miles trying to keep it that
way. I know even in the smallest strand of DNA that I have, that I
will and forever want to take care of you. I wish you'd let me. Then
again, sometimes I wish you won't, considering I'm not the
beauty-queen type. I'm sort of what you call weird and awkward. I'd
rather hit it off with a book than at a party. I'm afraid that I'm
not the kind of girl you'd be proud to show off to your friends or to
your momma. I'm afraid I'm not your kind of girl, period. These two
feelings of wanting to be with you and wanting what's best for you
are battling it out in a dance-off. And the feeling of wanting to be
with you is losing with its desperate awkward tango of hope that
you'll be the one to pull the trigger first and rescue me from all
this suppressed emotion. I want the best kind of girl for you, and
somewhere deep down in me is a Rumpelstiltskin saying I'm not that
girl. And that's what sucks. So now, I'm confused. Because try as I
might, this isn't the typical happy ending chick flick you and I love
to watch. I think it's somewhere between 500 Days of Summer and 500
Days of Summer, and I'm Tom. So there you go, I'm afraid of not
finding anybody- because then, I wouldn't be able to forget about
you. And what sucks the worst is I don't have the lady balls to tell
you this in person, so yeah, I just hope that by some weird
serendipitous accident, you pass by this e-confession of mine. Take
care.
Sincerely,
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment