You could at least tell me I mean nothing instead of letting me hang on and wish that all of my fantasies are true
Months ago, it never did really cross my mind that I would even write you a letter like this. I’ve never really been good at words, or anything I guess at the least. But I am, please believe me, trying my best to work this out without ruining your mood.
To make someone happy, a person’s first instinct is to tell them stuff about flawlessness but here I am cutting the cliché. You are imperfect; we both are to be exact. Be angry at me for saying so, but let us just accept that fact. You aren’t the most attractive girl in the world. You don’t have the perfect color for a skin. You don’t have the nicest and most fragrant hair. You don’t even have the best diction and accent. You don’t have that most kissable lips or that kind of eyes where you’d be like “wow”.
You have flaws and so do I. You make mistakes, you’ve encountered failures—these are normal.
I can’t tell you that I think about you every second, every minute of every day. I can’t even tell you that you’re the one who gave me the widest smile or the most hysterical laugh. I can’t tell you that you’ve never made me mad. I can’t lie about being hurt due to some of your words and actions. There are times that you piss me off, times when I piss you off. There is nothing perfect about you, about me, or about us, if such a word exists. And that’s the thing. I’ve grown attached to those flaws. They were the things that kept me wide awake at night; the blemishes that kept me hanging. Maybe that’s why even if everything hurt, I’ve grown so much used to it that I can’t let go. I can’t forget.
Many people try hard their ugly parts that they don’t know that these are the things which make them unique and beautiful. They try so hard to be perfect that people around them can’t jive with the flow thinking that they must be perfect too. That’s the thing about you; you don’t make me feel like that. You don’t make me feel out of place or like I need to rise up to your level. However ironic it may seem, your flaws make you perfect in my eyes.
But as much as every one of us would want this the other way around, I can’t love you forever; for forever is a big word and is a complete contrast of the permanence of change. But I know, I will love you and care for you in any way and the longest that I can.
Even if you can’t love me back.
I didn’t know it was possible to lose words of expression because of extreme pain.