You (in tradition of our email subject)

Dearest, 

 

I've been okayish. Well, as okay as i can be. I try to be strong for you. I try to think about you and how one of these days you'll find a way to earn me back or come up with a way to talk to me regularly, and let me reply. But for now, i want to give you these. Every few days/whenever i remember to update this, i'm gonna tell you how i am and what has happened and how fucking much i miss you. 

 

 

As you gave me a song, i figured you should get one to listen to at 3 am when you (probably) miss me the most. I say probably, because that's usually when i miss you the most, at 3 am when i'm alone and i have something in my system, weither it be alcohol or some kind of calming thing, herbal or not. They never help much during those times. I usually forget my name before i forget yours.

Moving on. I give you Could It Be Another Change by The Samples. Go listen to it. It's really pretty. In most of these, i'll give you a song, okay? 

 

I'll probably never actually believe you love me. I'll most likely always think you only like me because i was the first one to go along with it, and to understand. I just wish you hadn't told that kid, ya know? You probably know how i know about that. BEcause if you hadn't, we would be together and we could've watched Dark Shadows and made out oops, sorry, had to. Wow. I'm apologizing to much. 

 

Is there ay way i can actually talk to you, my love? If i made a fake email, and incrypted every single fucking word, could i talk to you?

 

I'll be your dirty little secret. I promise to keep it. One day, when you're locked into some loveless marriage, you can think about me and know i still kept the secret. I promise not to tell, okay? 

 

Just promise me one thing, okay? One thing. Just one. Don't forget about October 1st. I have to admit, it was both the most perfect but also the most imperfect day i have ever had. I just keep playing it over and over in my head and every time i just mentally slap myself, because this was all my fucking fault. I could have said no, i didn't have to agree. For one fucking day i was a go alonger and i went along with it, because you were hot and you liked the same stuff as me and the whole forbidden love shit that for some stupid reason i thought would be fun. Turns the out it's not fun at all, it's not fun to wonder if you've killed yourself or if you never even liked me at all because my email went silent. And i'm so sorry i got so desperate and missed you so bad i had to email you. It's just that The Scientist was playing in the chiropractors office and i had almost gotten over you and BAM! like a fucking hurricane i just started missing you so bad and tried not to cry because i didn't want to fuck up my eyeliner and believe me, it was caked on there, and i just couldn't take thinking you hated me or that you killed yourself or something.

 

I'm not gonna lie. You're not my first love. Or my first kiss. But fuck, Sarah, you're the first one who gave a damn about me. You're the first girl to ever take an interest in me first, and to really, actually care. Or kiss me first. I must sound so experienced. Well i'm not. You were my first  "real" kiss, i suppose, and i know that i sound so stupid telling you that i really do love you and that i'm fucking crazy about you. And the feeling probably isn't mutual. But you can be assured that it is on my side. 

 

Please do know that it's always acceptable to call me whenever you get a chance/are alone/want to. My texts decided never to load, so even if you did text me, i wouldn't get it. 

 

Wow this is really long. Sorry. Wow. 

 

Love, 

 

Ryan xx

 

P.s. You're the most beautiful girl in the world, okay? I swear.

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