I think you could fall in love with anyone if you saw the parts of them that no one else gets to see. Like if you followed them around invisibly for a day and you saw them crying in their bed at night or singing to themselves as they make a sandwich or even just walking along the street and even if they were really weird and had no friends at school, I think after seeing them at their most vulnerable you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them.
Things don't go wrong and break your heart so that you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up, so that you can be all that you were intended to be. The hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let go.
The hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong I'd write you another letter. But I never sent them, in fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer. I didn't want to ever forget that.
And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded.
I wish you would just show up on my doorstep. Not with anything special, just you. And when I’d open the door you’d smile and while I’m trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here you’d tell me how hard the past months have been, how much you’ve thought about me, how much you regretted everything. And then you’d take me into your arms and ask me to forgive you and I would without hesitation. Then you’d grab my face and kiss me the way you used to and everything would be perfect again.
That hug was longer than it should have been. In fact, it shouldn’t have happened at all. It left me thinking we had some connection; that you were trying to tell me something, a secret about yourself that you too were too afraid to say out loud.
You didn’t say anything to hurt me. It was all the things you wouldn’t say, all the things I could see in your eyes and wouldn’t share with me. It was all those things that made me hurt.
What" and "If" are two words as non-threatening as words can be. But put them together side by side and they have the power to haunt you for the rest of your life. I don't know how your story ended but if what you felt then was true love, then it's never too late. If it was true then, why wouldn't it be true now? You need only the courage to follow your heart. I don't know what a love like Juliet's feels like - love to leave loved ones for, love to cross oceans for but I'd like to believe if I ever were to feel it, that I will have the courage to seize it. And if you didn't, I hope one day that you will.
Because you kink your eyebrow when you’re trying to be cute. And you quote Keimoo even though I’ve actually never seen you read. And because you miss your parents, but you’ll never ever admit that. And because I’ve given exactly two of these embarrassing speeches in my entire life, and they’ve both been with you. I mean, that's gotta mean something right? And because we’re both gonna get pneumonia, but if you need to hear why I love you, I can go on all night. (One Tree Hill)
I constantly wonder how my life looks in other people’s eyes. Do they think I have it easy? Do they think I have nothing going on for myself? Or are the fascinated with who I am? The thing is that no one will ever know my whole story. No one will ever know the things I’ve had to overcome. Not even my closest friends, not even my own family. The thing is that people are so quick to judge now a days. You only see a person from what they want and allow you to see. I always try to look as put together as if can and I guess that’s my way of hiding from the truth. It’s just that way, everyone will assume that everything in my life is okay, that I never go through anything. If only everyone knew how broken I am, and how I’m holding on for dear life on this one last strand that’s recently become very delicate. The truth is that no one really knows me. No one will ever know me and sometimes that scares me, because no one will ever know why I am the way I am.
It's okay Waldo, I'm still trying to find myself too.