Posting things for posterity, I suppose.
Dec. 9th, 2007 01:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyress"I could build a house on all the what-if's I've had in my life. What -f I had done this. What-if I had done that. The only problem is, I never really know how they would turn out. So I'm going to send you this so I'll get rid of at least one what-if.
I love you
It might not be anything more then a crush, but whatever it is, it's been happening on and off since sixth grade and that's enough to convince me to do something crazy like this. I don't know how you feel about me right now, and I don't really care, if that makes any sense. I also know/think you like [Name Removed], and that's okay too. I just don't want to have another what-if. I want to know what will happen.
I also don't particularily care what you do with this e-mail. Reply, delete, talk to me about it, ignore it forever...I just wanted to get this what-if out of my mind.
~Kat"
I wrote that a long time ago. Ninth grade, I think. (Stop lying, Kat, you know damn well it was written and sent late October/early November of your ninth grade year. Little over four years ago now.)
I've been rereading things I wrote back then all evening. This one, I think, matters the most. It very clearly wasn't a love letter, and I never referred to it as such.
It was a rational letter. The first of a handful I wrote. Not a lot, certainly.
The last one I wrote, I didn't save. It was the opposite of this, it was written to a boy who knew I loved him, asking if he loved me back. He...didn't. And told me so. Contempt in his voice that I would be silly enough to ask important questions in notes. It hurt then, hurts now, but I haven't used letters to communicate the important stuff ever since. Or e-mails, or phones, or anything like that.
I was so much cockier back then. Oh sure, I had my doubt and confusion and self-hate, same as always. But I was much more sure of how the world worked, and what was right and what was wrong
I miss myself.
Perhaps I should do as I said I would in my last post, and go outside and let the cold and the movement numb me.
(Perhaps I don't want to be numb.)
~Sor
MOOP!
I love you
It might not be anything more then a crush, but whatever it is, it's been happening on and off since sixth grade and that's enough to convince me to do something crazy like this. I don't know how you feel about me right now, and I don't really care, if that makes any sense. I also know/think you like [Name Removed], and that's okay too. I just don't want to have another what-if. I want to know what will happen.
I also don't particularily care what you do with this e-mail. Reply, delete, talk to me about it, ignore it forever...I just wanted to get this what-if out of my mind.
~Kat"
I wrote that a long time ago. Ninth grade, I think. (Stop lying, Kat, you know damn well it was written and sent late October/early November of your ninth grade year. Little over four years ago now.)
I've been rereading things I wrote back then all evening. This one, I think, matters the most. It very clearly wasn't a love letter, and I never referred to it as such.
It was a rational letter. The first of a handful I wrote. Not a lot, certainly.
The last one I wrote, I didn't save. It was the opposite of this, it was written to a boy who knew I loved him, asking if he loved me back. He...didn't. And told me so. Contempt in his voice that I would be silly enough to ask important questions in notes. It hurt then, hurts now, but I haven't used letters to communicate the important stuff ever since. Or e-mails, or phones, or anything like that.
I was so much cockier back then. Oh sure, I had my doubt and confusion and self-hate, same as always. But I was much more sure of how the world worked, and what was right and what was wrong
I miss myself.
Perhaps I should do as I said I would in my last post, and go outside and let the cold and the movement numb me.
(Perhaps I don't want to be numb.)
~Sor
MOOP!