A Letter

Dear D

I love you. I always will - you'll have a place in my heart forever.
Do you love me? Will you ever - you never told me properly.

When I fall in love with someone, it's either everything or nothing. Everything I stand for revolves around that special person. When I love, I give everything. Many people would say that's stupid and dangerous, but that's just who I am.
When you fall in love with someone, you don't show it. You're afraid of rejection and are careful to seem indifferent. When you're in love, you try to suppress you feelings as if they were bad. Many people would say that's stupid and senseless, but that's just who you are.

The person I love always has first priority. I want to be there for him, no matter what happens, no matter how far away he is. I miss him every single day and every second thought is dedicated to him.
The person you love (?) is the last thing you think of at the end of the day. Only when you go to bed do you remember that somewhere out there, there is someone who loves you with all their heart and mind. You think that writing something is too tiresome if it's done more than once every week, so you just bury yourself in school work and training and try not to think of the person you love (?).

I'm writing this letter to you because I know you. I know you because I love you. I'm guessing you don't read my mails, however rare they are, anyway, so I might just as well publish this letter here, for everyone to read. Everyone except you.

You're the reason I can't sleep at night. You make me cry every time I'm reminded of you. You never call. You never write. If you do, your words are short, distanced, worthless, meaningless... They don't say anything. They're empty. Just like you.

In truth, you're quite the hateful type of person. And yet I love you so much it hurts. Why?

One day, I'll manage to forget you. One day, you'll regret you didn't make an effort to keep me beside you. One day, I'll find the person that'll make me happy. Although my heart will never belong to them. It's forever trapped in your warm hands, your soft touch, your voice, your very existence. As long as you exist, I'll die slowly, bit by bit, eaten up from the inside. But I will find happiness nevertheless. Somehow. I'll keep trying as long as it takes.

Never write.
Never call.
Never care.
Always loved.
You.

/P.